


Miles Away

by Winkydinkle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate season 8, Canon Universe, Dark Dany, Dark dark dany, Eventual Smut, Lady Stoneheart - Freeform, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Minor Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Multi, Slow Burn, The Long Night, jonsa, kind of, some book canon details
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-04-21 01:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 100,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14273622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winkydinkle/pseuds/Winkydinkle
Summary: When Jon returns to Winterfell, everything changes. Multiple POVs explore what might happen in the final season.





	1. Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this one shot for the Jonsa spring challenge.  
> the prompt was Babies

**JON**

Bran and Sam had some urgent matters they wanted to discuss with Jon. He said he’d meet them after taking his dinner at the feast. As soon as Jon entered the great hall he spotted Sansa sitting alone. He started making his way to her, when Daenerys took the empty seat beside her. He almost screamed ‘Nooo!!’ all but running to sit at the empty seat across the table from them, If these two were going to talk he wanted to hear every word. They both acknowledged when he sat, but looked away when he started to stuff his mouth with chicken so he wouldn’t have to say anything.  
  
“I must know where you got this dress Lady Sansa, I’ve never seen anything like it.” Dany mused, admiring the fine silks.  
  
Sansas cheeks flushed a beautiful rosey color as she looked down at her skirts, “Thank you, I made it myself.” She was wearing a gorgeous dress made of dark grey silk, the double wolf head sigil was beaded out of shiny beads along the sides of her neck line. The dress was so tight on the curves of her body and the neck line dipped quite low. Jon tore his eyes away and focused on his chicken as he continued to listen.  
  
“I must know, where did you learn to make such beautiful dresses?” Dany asked.  
  
“I was taught by my septa when I was a child. Sometimes when I grow tired of sewing and relax my back a bit, I can still hear her shouting at me to mind my posture” Sansa and Dany both let out small laughs.  
  
Daenerys smiled at Jon, while he stuffed his mouth with more chicken. Dany made a face at him and continued, “Will you be so firm with your own children?”  
  
Sansa blinked and looked down at her hands  
“I used to dream about having children. I always thought I would name them after the family members that I’ve lost.” Sansa said sounding as though she were a million miles away “I thought I might name my first boy after my oldest brother... I really miss him...” She trailed off  
  
Daenerys took a sip of wine “Jon has not told me much about your family, I’m not even really sure I know his name.”  
  
Sansa seemed lost in her thoughts she muttered “his name-“ she paused. “His name was-“  
  
“Robb” Jon heard himself say along with Sansa.  
  
She looked across the table to him and for a moment he saw her icy gaze break into a gentle wave of warmth as she smiled at him.  
  
How did she do that? How could summer live in her smile and winter in her eyes?  
  
Summer turned back into winter in Sansas voice as she continued, “I used to dream of raising my children here in this castle as I was raised. But those are the dreams of a stupid little girl.” Sansa clenched her hands together in front of her. Jon took a bite of his chicken and chewed it so he wouldn’t blurt out anything else.  
  
Dany sighed “I too dreamt of having children of my own as a girl, I was weak then. Now I have my dragons and soon I will take back what has been stolen from me.”  
  
Sansa grew a worried look on her face too quickly for Dany to notice before hiding it away behind one of her masks.  
  
“I’m happy for you Daenerys, children are truly a gift. You raised such strong dragons all on your own.”  
  
Danys face lit up at her words, “And some day you will raise strong children of your own, sweet Sansa.” Dany said smiling sweetly to her.  
  
Sansa was a million miles away again, Jon could see the distance in her eyes. Dany got up and left the table, she didn’t even hear when Sansa muttered, “No- That could never happen.”  
  
“And why is that?” Jon heard himself ask her, putting the chicken leg down on his plate.  
  
Sansas eyes widened as she met his gaze from across the table. She sighed “I will never be loved for who I am, the only reason anyone would think to marry me is for the claim my babies would have. They’d be used for their title all their lives used as pawns. That is not the life I want for them.”  
  
Jon reached across the table and squeezed her hand. She looked at him and returned his grasp. He took a breath as if to talk, but the words got stuck in his mouth.  
  
He wanted to tell her about his own dreams. He wanted to tell her that the warmth of her smile meant more to him than any title or claim she held. He wanted her to know that she inspired him to continue living in this cold world by showing him what true strength looked like.  
  
They looked at each other for a few moments. Slowly they released eachothers hands drawing them back, holding the intensity of her gaze Jon stood up.  
  
He nodded goodbye to her and walked away. Before leaving the great hall, he looked back to find her still watching him. He gave her a half smile and left the hall to meet with Bran and Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to continue this in chapters I can’t say how many yet but I can say it’ll be a lot lol thank you for reading will update soon. Might add a couple of POVs


	2. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finds out r+l=j and gets super distant!! Sansa tries to cheer him up.

**SANSA**

After having that talk with Bran and Sam, Jon hadn’t left his chambers in days. The nervous way Sam told everyone that Jon had fallen ill made Sansa worry, and she had decided she was going to see for herself. At noon she had two meals brought up to his room. She heard one of the kitchen maids knock, and followed them as they bustled into his chambers.  
  
“What’s all this?” Jon asked her.  
  
“I wanted to make sure you ate today, and if you don’t mind I thought I’d join you.” She had hidden a bottle of dornsh wine in her cloak. Brienne had brought it for her from Kings Landing, it was supposed to be quite strong. She thanked the kitchen maids and kindly dismissed them. After they had left, Sansa asked Jon how he had been feeling. He looked a bit thin and his eyes were tinged with a sadness that made Sansa want to throw her arms around him and hug the pain away. Concern washed over her face as she sat down.  
  
“I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s alright with you.” He sat down and started picking at his food.  
  
She saw then, that Sam had been protecting his friend. In telling everyone he’d fallen ill, Sam was able to give Jon the time he needed to face whatever ailed his soul.  
  
“Well maybe this will get you talking.”  
She brought out the bottle of wine and filled two goblets to the rim.  
  
“Isn’t it a bit early?” He asked.  
  
“Not today it’s not.” She laughed. He gave her a half smile, paused and then took a long drink.  
  
They ate and drank together, Sansa told Jon all about the new armor she had made for their forces while he was away.  
  
“I wanted the free folk to move comfortably, while being protected as well. This new design will protect weak spots we’ve discovered in our old designs. Tormund and Lord Royce themselves had a hand in some of the changes.”  
Jon listened to her talk,  
  
”I think they’ve grown quite close.” She said as his eyes met hers, and it seemed Jon was about to say something, but instead took a mouthful of bread.  
  
Sansa stood up,  
“Let’s go get one from the storage room so you can try it on!” She took his hands and pulled him up on to his feet.  
  
“I don’t know if-“ he started, but she was already throwing his cloak and boots to him.  
  
“We’ll need to finish this first, of course.” She handed his goblet to him and with a look and a nod they drank down the remnants of their goblets.  
  
Sansa led him out through the courtyard and they walked to the storage room. He silently ran his hands over one of the thousands of shields, which spanned out across the room on the shelves. She took some parts of an armor and handed them to Jon. She took the rest of the parts and together they clumsily stumbled their way back to Jons chambers.  
  
“I’ll tend to the fire.” She set down the armor and sat beside the hearth.  
  
A calm silence filled the space between them, Sansa kept her eyes on the flames and listened to the clinking of the armor. She started to feel a bit dizzy from the wine so she closed her eyes against the warmth of the fire.  
  
“Jon?” She asked  
  
“Almost done” he responded  
  
“I wanted you to know that whatever has kept you in your bedchambers these last few days, whatever it is I know that together we can defeat-“  
  
“Sansa-“ he interrupted  
  
“Please- please just listen to me, and we don’t have to speak about it any further. I only want you to know that you have Arya, you have Bran and you have me. All those years we were apart, everything that happened to our family, every single thing that broke us and beat us, has led us here and now.” She did not wield a sword like Arya or peer into history like the three Eyed Raven can, but Sansa knew that she could use her wits if she ever needed to help them. With her knowledge of the great game, Sansa would ensure that she never loses another person she loves. She needed Jon to know that they will support him no matter what.  
  
“Together, House Stark will endure winter and ensure that our people see another spring. Together, not on our own.” As she said the words she felt the need to look into his eyes however, staying true to her word, she spoke of it no further.  
  
Sansa wondered once again what exactly it was that Bran and Sam had told Jon... No, he doesn’t want to talk about it. She thought to herself.  
  
After a few moments of silence “Sansa,” he asked her “What do you see when you look at me?”  
  
She turned her gaze from the hearth to Jon, holding back a gasp when she saw him standing in the complete armor. Sansa walked around him to make sure the armor fit correctly. Every part fit perfectly, however Sansa felt the chest plate straps could be tightened a bit more.  
  
“I see you for who you are.” She told him “Jon Snow, the most gentle soul in all of the seven kingdoms. The bravest man to ever serve the Nights Watch. One of the strongest kings the North has ever seen. That’s what I see.” She told him.  
  
She tied the final straps and walked back around him to get a better look. His eyes were wide with wonder, like when Sansa gives him a snarky comment.  
  
At first it made her smile, but then something happened, it was the way he was looking at her. It made Sansas tummy flutter wildly and slowly melted her smile away, leaving her breathless. He looked like dream come true, a bold knight ready to defeat his enemies. Sansa couldn’t help but fix one of his curls that stuck out in the wrong direction. She ran her hand through it, and set her hand down at the back of Jons neck.  
  
“I think you are perfect.” She whispered to him.  
  
“That’s not true.” The tone in his voice caught Sansa by surprise but before she could do anything about it, there was a knock on the door. She walked over to answer it.  
  
Standing at the door was the beautiful Queen Daenerys. She wore her hair in a tangle of long silver braids which framed her gorgeous face.  
  
“Your grace” she curtsied  
  
“Lady Sansa? I didn’t expect to find you here, I wonder if I might have a chat with your brother.” She told her.  
  
“Of course, he is still a bit ill. But I think you’ll see he is getting better with each passing hour.” Sansa let Dany in, and stood at the door.  
  
Dany spotted Jon in his full armor and let out a deep gasp. “Your grace.” His armor clinked with his bow.  
  
“Oh my look how handsome you are!!!” Daenerys squeaked as she planted a big kiss on his lips.  
  
“Thank you, your grace... Sam has advised me against coming in contact with anyone. I don’t want you to fall ill as I have, my Queen.” He told her.  
  
Sansa felt she should leave them, the exchange felt too intimate. It seemed as though they had stepped right out of a song. The beautiful delicate queen and her betrothed knight in shining armor. The castle buzzed with rumors of marriage between the two.  
  
“Then I’ll have to settle for kissing your cheeks, for now.” Dany laughed.  
  
“Is this the armor you will wear for the battle?” Dany trailed her hand over the Stark sigil on Jons chest.  
  
“Lady Sansa had them made for our men, while I was away.” Jon told Dany.  
  
“I should have guessed it, sweetest Sansa what great talent you have.” Dany mused.  
  
“Actually I had a bit of help from Tormund and Lord Royce.” Sansa blushed.  
  
“No, I know this dire wolf design. I’ve seen it on your dresses. You are quite the artist.” Dany turned her violet gaze back to Jon who was looking down at his feet.  
  
“I should go, there is so much work to be done. Thank you for the kind words your grace.” She curtsied and swiftly left Jons bedchamber.  
  
She leaned against the other side of the closed door to steady her breathing.  
  
_Together they will be difficult to defeat_  
Littlefinger’s words echoed in her head  
With a deep breath Sansa steadied her breathing and composed herself.  
  
“Lady Sansa?” Brienne’s voice brought Sansa back into reality.  
  
“Are you ok my lady? Shall I take you to the Maester?” Brienne asked.  
  
“I am quite alright, thank you.” Sansa breathed  
  
With a quiet understanding, Brienne put her hand on Sansas back and walked her to her solar.  
  
“I’ll stand watch to make sure no one disturbs my lady.” Brienne gave her a nod and shut the door.  
  
Sansa went to get the fire started in her hearth. She threw in some wood and watched as the flames wreathed it growing bigger and stronger.  
  
_Your Grace_  
  
The way he said it made it sound like the most romantic thing anyone had ever said. It was then that Sansa decided she would stay away from Jon, the best thing for him is to marry Daenerys. She would not spoil her half brothers chances at marrying the Queen. No matter how much it hurt to see them together. A beautiful high born lady and her handsome knight, like something out of a song. Sansa wiped the tear that had rolled down her cheek and began to work on finding more food for the northern stores. Winter is here, she thought hardening her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I forget to say this was a slow burn??


	3. When the time is right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon tries to tell Sansa about his parents, but is that the safest thing to do?

**Sansa**

Sansa sat in her solar taking stock of grain. She’d been there all day trying to work out a way to make their supply last longer than the projected 3 years Sam helped her sum up. Her back started to feel the pain of sitting there for so long but she couldn’t stop, there was always work to be done. There was a knock on the door, Sansa gladly took the opportunity to stand up and answer.  
  
It was Jon, he held up two horns of mead. His expression was hopeful his eyes looked right into hers making her breath catch in her throat,  
“Hello Jon, come in.” She thought of how close they had grown before he went away to Dragonstone, they’d often stay up late at night looking over maps and old books drinking and plotting.  
  
“I haven’t seen you for days Sansa. There’s.... something I really need to tell you... I thought you might be keeping your distance from me.” His eyebrows knit up framing his soft grey eyes, his lips parted.  
  
“Of course I’m not, there are still so many pressing issues I must-“ She reaches for her papers, but Jon picked them up instead and handed her a horn of mead.   
  
With a sigh she took it, the smell alone made her cringe. She sipped some and tried to hide the face it forced upon her, but to her relief Jon didn’t see, he was quietly looking over her work.  
  
“This is very good, we have enough grain for three years that is quite impressive.” His smirk faded when he saw the look in her eyes.  
  
“It’s not enough, The Maesters say this winter will last at least seven years.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  
  
Jon met her gaze and they shared a warm smile before drinking deeply.  
  
“I can ask Daenerys if she has any food stores she might have saved maybe we could trade with her?” Jon looked down at the floor while he waited for her response.  
  
In the time since they’d arrived, Sansa hadn’t taken much time to really get to know Dany. When they did speak she seemed kind enough and she did agree to help their cause. As kind as she seemed, Sansa knew her true motives lied with her conquest of the iron throne, however Sansa knew Jon trusted her.  
_He may have even fallen in love with her_  
she thought to herself.  
“That could help thank you, Jon.”  
  
He half smiled at her and looked back down at the floor. Sansa looked at his face and thought about how much she missed planning and solving problems with him. Sometimes it felt like together they could truly be themselves, and they could overcome anything. Sometimes Jon felt like the only person in the world that she could truly feel at peace with.  
  
“And how is our new queen liking Winterfell?” Sansa asked with the raise of a brow  
  
“I’m sure she prefers the warm southern shores. Gods I wonder if that island will ever even see a flake of snow this winter.” He rolled his eyes and laughed.  
  
Jon’s smile was a rare thing and it was contagious, Sansa let herself enjoy the way they could talk so easily.   
  
”Sansa, there’s something important I need to tell you.” He closed his eyes and held his head in his hands.   
“Bran and Sam have come across some very- interesting... information...”   
  
Sansa could see how hard it was for him to talk about this.   
  
“You see... Sam, he and Bran... well... actually it was Gilly- she was looking at-“ he stopped and sighed again.   
  
Whatever it was that he was trying to share, it was easy to see that he was not ready to talk about it.   
  
She reached across the table to take his hand   
“Whatever it is Jon, I’ll be here to talk about it when you’re ready.”   
  
His grasp slowly tightened around her hand. He looked like a man at war in his own mind. Sansa knew how it felt having to talk about the broken parts of herself, she knew that he could overcome whatever it was that brought distance to his stormy grey eyes. She knew that only time could bring him back.  
  
“Now that you remind me... I actually have been meaning to ask you, where did Sam say he was from again?”  
  
“Sam is of House Tarly.” Jon told her, “His father is a terrible man, but Sam loves his mother, brother and sister.”   
  
House Tarly was in the Reach, as House Tyrell once was. The pain of remembering the fate of Loras and Margaery almost become too much and Sansa bit her bottom lip.  
Jon let go of her hand, Sansa quickly brought it to her side.  
“I wonder if he might be okay with me contacting his mother Lady Tarly. The reach has some of the most fertile lands. We could set up a trade system with Lady Tarly personally, since it has not yet been decided who will be assuming as lord of High Garden. We can help each other survive through winter. Old Nan use to say food became more valuable than gold during the long night. An alliance with the Reach would be good for them as well. We could send them wood, furs and We can send clothing patterns to teach them everything we’ve learned so they don’t freeze in the harsh winter conditions.” She passed Jon the papers with lists, sums and just about everything they could do to help them.  
  
“Can I take these to show him? It’s a brilliant plan, I’m proud of you Sansa.” His eyes searched over her face.   
  
Sansa beamed a smile she could not contain at him. “You were right, the only way we are going to survive is if we work together. Just like we did when we defeated the Boltons. As much as the Reach would help us, I do understand if Sam doesn’t want us to deal with his father. He knows him better than anybody.” She was almost finished with her mead and was ready to get back to work.  
  
“Sometimes I think you might be the most intelligent woman in all of Westeros, Lady Stark.” The way he looked at her made Sansas heart flutter wildly in her chest.  
  
“You must be the first and only person to ever say that about me.” She laughed.  
  
Jon, however, did not laugh he walked around her desk and stood beside her. He put his hand on her chin and caressed her face. His hand was scarred, but it felt as if a gentle butterfly had sweetly kissed the place on her cheek that his fingertips trailed. His lips parted as he slowly leaned down to whispered in her ear   
  
_”You are.”_   
  
His lips went from her ear to her forehead where he planted the sweetest kiss. She looked up at him they were close, too close and his warm breath swept across her lips.   
  
They stood there together deeply inhaling the scent of each other, exhaling quickly so they could fill themselves with another breath. Sansa had come to find that long after he’d wished her good night and walked out the door, she could still feel the heat of his breath that lingered on her lips.  
  
She touched the spot as she allowed herself to question what all these feelings meant. Did it mean that she was more like Cersei than she’d ever thought? Her cheeks blushed red as the heat of Jons breath spread from her lips through out her face down her neck and spine.  
  
No it can never be.  
He is my half brother.  
He is to marry the Dragon Queen.  
She stood up to stretch and returned to work, pushing the thought to the very back of her mind.  
  
  
________________________________________________________________________________

**Jon**

He stood leaning against the door to Sansas solar. His breath turned to mist in the cold air. He wanted to tell her the truth about his parentage. He wanted to run back into that room to tell her that he can not escape the thoughts of holding her in his bed her beautiful red hair spread across his face, he wanted her to know that he didn’t have to hide the way she made him feel anymore. He wanted to thank her for helping him decide what name to go by. He tried to tell her that he would stay Jon Snow because of what she told him that night that she showed him the new armor.  
  
He tried to tell her but he couldn’t, he had promised to protect her.   
Anyone with the knowledge of his true parents could never be safe, not even his Uncle Ned thought it wise to tell a soul. Jon told himself that his duty is to ensure the safety of the realm. He would have to wait to tell Sansa that he was not her half brother, to confess his true feelings to her without shame. He would have to wait to find out if by some blessed act of the gods, she might feel the same way about him.  
  
He placed his hand on her door, before letting it fall to his side and walking away. The warmth of her skin still tingled on his lips, even in the freezing winds. Winter is here, he reflected, and spring is sure to follow. First we must survive this war.  
  
The horn sounded at the gate one time, it meant that there was a welcome banner at the gates. Jon thought it might be Cersei’s forces, as they were expected a few days ago.  
  
Sansa burst out of her solar and right into Jon. He helped her regain her balance. As he held her closely in his arms he thought of telling her right then and there.  
  
I will, he thought, when the time is right. They stood up, and together they ran to the courtyard.


	4. Last Chance for Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime rides to Winterfell, and Bran reflects on a complication with his visions.

**Jaime**

The last time he had visited Winterfell Jaime was a different man, he could hardly recognize himself. Once the snow covered stone castle had appeared in the distance Jaime took a deep breath. He thought of the fickle northern lords, the way that they glared at him when he was Robb Starks prisoner. The way they sneered at Lady Catlyn Stark herself, when she wouldn’t allow them to murder him for killing the Karstark boy. They’ll probably have me thrown in the dungeon or fed to the dragons. What am i walking into? He asked himself  
  
Jaime looked down at Widows Wail, the ruby stone shined like a blazing fire. He knew that his father would have been furious with his decision to let Cersei go.  
  
_I need you to become the man you were always meant to be. Not next year, not tomorrow... now._  
  
He could still hear Tywin Lannisters voice echo through his head as he looked ahead to the great castle. I could turn back now, he thought, take the Tully forces back to Kings Landing and beg Cersei to forgive me. She did always say that they’d live the way they had entered the world, together. She did also say that they’d die that way too.  
  
“There’s Winterfell up ahead, we’ll make it there before nightfall.” Jaime told one of the men. He was glad to have been able to persuade Edmure to call his banners in all of the Trident and allow Jaime to march his forces North. It was no great number of men compared to the Lannister army Cersei had promised, but it was better than showing up with nothing. He knew the Tully sigil on the flags they wielded would be met with welcome at the Winterfell gates. Poor Edmure would have allowed Jaime to take whatever he pleased. That was precisely the reason why Jaime held the reigns of his horse with his good hand and rode to Winterfell as fast as he could. No more lies, he thought to himself, he would be a better man now. He would honor his vow to fight for the North.  
  
He had a plan, he would request to see the Lady of Winterfell upon arrival. He’d tell her that Cersei would not honor the truce she agreed upon. He would tell her of the 5,000 men her lord uncle Edmure Tully of Riverrun has pledged to her cause and he’d tell her of Euron and The Golden Company. He would then drop down on his knee and pledge his sword to Sansa Stark, where he could serve along side Brienne.  
  
The snow covered trees blurred by and as he charged down the path, the trees seemed to gather closer to the road. Soon the army was surrounded by woods, and the castle grew bigger as they rode closer. Jaime’s eyes widened in fear when he heard the distant screeching of dragons overhead.  
  
“Get down!” Jaime yelled  
Seeing the fear flash across the soldiers faces before throwing themselves to the ground. The screeches grew louder. It was an awful metallic sound, Jaime looked up to see where they might be. The narrow parting of the trees allowed him to only see a small part of the sky. Another screech shook the men and a blur of green and black shot across his view through the trees. They must have been fighting over something, whatever it was Jaime was glad it was not him. The screeching faded in the the wind as the dragons flew into the distance.  
  
“Let’s go quickly before they return!” Jaime yelled. They ran full speed to the castle.  
  
As they approached the castle gates the men standing guard sounded a horn. Jaime felt his hand shaking and soon came to find his whole body was shaking. He was running straight into the heart of danger. An army of dead men, dragons, Dorthraki screamers, the unsullied, and the Mad King’s daughter. I really must be the stupidest Lannister, he thought.  
  
The gates opened and the Tully men rode through. Jaime followed shortly behind them into the courtyard. He dismounted and looked around at the people gathering on the battlements. He saw Brienne emerge from a crowd of unsullied. He looked into her big blue eyes and knew immediately that he had made the right decision, when he saw her proud smile. Everything and everyone melted away, and if the dragon queen fed him to her dragons at that very moment... it would have all been worth it to see that brilliant smile, one last time.  
  
“Jaime?” He recognized Tyrion’s voice behind him.  
  
“Tyrion, I must speak to the Lady of Winterfell at once. I have very important news for her.” He gave Brienne an urgent look, understanding washed across her face and she raced off to find Sansa.  
  
“I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear what you have to say once she arrives, she’s been very busy as of late.” Tyrion told Jaime.  
  
“No body will hear another word you have to say, Kingslayer.” Daenerys shouted, her voice cutting through the courtyard silencing all the commotion. There was fire in her violet glare.  
  
“Seize him.” She commanded, she followed with something that must have been Dorthraki.  
  
Three unsullied soldiers surrounded him. Jaime put his hand on widows wail and almost unsheathed it, when he spotted three Dorthraki approaching him as well. He reluctantly put his hands up and let them take his weapons.  
  
“I have very important news for the lady of Winterfell!!” He yelled for everyone to hear.  
“She must know, I must speak to her at once!!” He shouted while the unsullied dragged him away to the dungeons.  
  
He saw the other Stark girl, Arya looking after him. It had been years since he last saw her, but he recognized her face. She looked so much like Ned Stark then, even more so now. She had started talking to the Tully men. She’ll see that they are treated well, he thought.  
Jaime was about to yell out something else, when one of the Dorthraki soldiers knocked him over the head with his sword. Everything faded away into darkness and all he managed to say was “Lady Sansa” before his body fell limp.

________________________________________________________________________________ 

**Bran**

Jaime Lannister had arrived right on time. Bran had seen this many different times. The details can change but the most impactful moments must not merge off their potential path.  
  
Bran had been having complications with his visions from the very beginning. He was supposed to be the three Eyed Raven, nothing was supposed to surprise him. Yet he could never see it coming. It is a darkness which prevents him from seeing. He thought about the first time it happened.  
  
_In his dream he was a young boy again, climbing down the broken tower of Winterfell. He knelt to the ground to hug Summer, still a pup. He holds the little pup in his arms for a short while, then he starts growling and snarling in the direction of the woods. A dark shadow appears, it grows larger and larger. Fear creeps up his spine he turns and runs away from it, looking back over his shoulder he sees it has consumed the woods and the sky and the ground below him. He pushes himself with all his might, but he is not fast enough. The cold shadow encases his whole body and forces it’s way into his mind._  
  
**I’d rather be dead.**

_**Old stories are like old friends, You have to visit them from time to time.** _

_**Even if it was only for a day,  
A day would be enough.** _

  


_As the memories passed through his mind Bran felt them fade away into the shadows. His tear filled eyes were opened wide, but still his vision faded into darkness._  
  
_He woke up to Leaf, looking down at him holding a wet cloth to his forehead. She looked worried_  
  
_“He has a blind spot” she told the three Eyed Raven._  
  
_“Blind spot?” Meera asked from behind Leaf._  
  
_“Something in Brans past, interfering in the present causing him to disconnect from visions of future possibilities. Every time you summon it, you feed it.” The three Eyed Raven said._  
  
_“You will lose yourself, if you do not figure out how to stop it.” Leaf told Bran_  
  
_”I didn’t summon anything! It took something from me! I- I can’t remember anymore- why can’t I remember what it took? It... it appeared out of..-“_  
  
_“The darkness.” The old frail man,said along with Bran._  
_“Darkness lies in the unknown, together we will find a way for you to face it.” The three Eyed Raven said with a nod to Leaf._  
  
They never did get to figure out how to stop it. He never thought he’d find himself missing that tree, yet here he sat with a heavy heart and numbness in his veins.  
  
Jaime was on time, and he would bring the news that would set off a chain of important events, if Daenerys didn’t have him burned alive first. He’d seen that as well as Jaime being eaten by dragons right outside the castle never even making it through the gates.  
  
So many possibilities, but he couldn’t interfere with any of it without running the risk of the shadow reappearing. He didn’t know how to control it, Bran hoped it was gone for good. His family needed him there was no time for any complications.  
  
As Sansa put it, he was able to see every possible move everyone could possibly make. He needed to make sure if something big was happening, that he would be expecting it. There might not be much of me left at all by the time it’s done with me, he thought to himself. He didn’t feel much like Bran Stark anymore, but he was in there buried deep he could still feel him only he was too far away to reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really don’t like what the show did to Brans character. Since I have the fictional liberty to save him, I’m gonna try. Thank you for reading hope you enjoy.


	5. Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are we going to do about Jaime?

**Daenerys**

The moment she laid eyes on him, she recognized his face from the battle on Goldroad. She remembered the look of rage and fear as he charged at her, it filled her chest with blazing fire to watch him stroll into the gates of Winterfell smiling like a fool.  
  
Jon and Sansa had run into the courtyard shortly after her guards had taken the Kingslayer away. They talked to their sister Arya, and before long the three of them were gazing up at Dany. She stood on top of the staircase in the courtyard above them. They don’t look very happy with me, she thought.  
  
She watched Jon walk up the stairs to her, followed by an upset looking Tyrion not far behind.  
  
“Your Grace, the Lady of Winterfell has called for a meeting in the Great Hall.” Jon told her  
  
“If this is about the Kingslayer, my word is final.” She declared.  
  
“Actually Your Grace, we are guests here at Winterfell. Had the Unsullied or Dorthraki guards not been around when you gave the command, the guards of Winterfell would have awaited their Lady’s approval before doing anything.” Tyrion told her “I would have advised you to do the same, had you asked.” His tone was kind, yet it vexed her all the same.  
  
“The North is part of the Seven Kingdoms, is it not? Jon Snow, former King in the North, has bent the knee to me. And as rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, should an enemy stroll through my gates, I shall do whatever I see fit.” Dany said, turning to walk down the stairs  
  
“Winterfell belongs to Sansa.” Jon said. Dany stopped in her tracks and turned back to look at Jon. His lips parted as he closed the distance between them and took her hands in his   
“My Queen,” he stood one step above her, taller than he usually was. She looked up at him as she returned his grasp  
“The North happens to be the largest region in all of the Seven Kingdoms, that’s almost half of Westeros that will support your claim to the throne. Northerners feel more comfortable reporting to someone who understands their troubles. Lady Stark is the eldest daughter of Winterfell, and northerners are loyal to the Stark name.” His thumbs caressed her palms.  
  
Dany thought of the politics she had to endure as Queen of Meereen. How she’d sit and daydream about where Drogon might’ve flown off to, while drinking and smiling with men she’d sooner flay. The Northern Lords and Ladies shuffle in and out of the great hall whenever they pleased, it seemed. They’d meet with the Lady of Winterfell, and though it often took up most of the day, she never once complained about any of it. Dany found Lady Sansa to be kind and courteous, she decided to cede this small power to her. Dany thought it wise to show her kindness, as there was something she might need from her once the war is won.  
  
Since the Northern houses seemed more loyal to the Stark name than that of their rightful Queen. She thought that with Jon being the true born son of a Stark, if she were to legitimize him, he would become a Stark by name. His claim to Winterfell would surpass Sansa’s claim, showing kindness now will show Sansa that Daenerys does not harbor any bad intentions towards her personally. I could reward her loyalty by making her one of my advisors, Dany thought. She’ll tell her that if Jon were Lord of Winterfell, and Warden of the North, it would make political sense for Dany and Jon to marry. The thought of marriage alone had always made Danys belly turn, but the thought of Jon vowing to be hers spread a smile across her face.  
  
Tyrion cleared his throat and said   
“I’ll see you both in the great hall.” He quickly bowed before walking off.  
  
Dany ascended up on to the same step that Jon stood on, she swiftly snaked her arm around his and together they walked to the great hall.  
Sansa, Bran, Arya, Samwell, Tyrion, and a tall brooding Brienne all stood up from their seats at the table the moment she walked in..  
  
“I’ve not come to argue with you. If this is about the Kingslayer, my decision is final.” Dany announced.  
Her head held high and lips pursed.  
  
“His name is Ser Jaime Lannister.” Brienne told her with a cold edge in her voice.  
  
Danys narrowed eyes darted to Brienne,  
“He murdered my father, the king he swore an oath to protect. He tried to kill me on the Goldroad. So forgive me, my Lady if I find it hard to trust the Kingslayer.” Danys voice echoed through the great hall, followed by a beat of silence.  
  
“And what have you decided to do to-“ Tyrion started, but Dany cut in  
  
“Your beloved brother?” She hardened her eyes at him. Tyrion nodded nervously and quickly looked away. “I will take him to a clearing in the woods where I will sentence him to die for treason.” She spoke firmly, her violet gaze drifted through the faces daring anyone to speak against her. Every one of them avoided meeting her gaze some in anger others in fear, until she came across Sansa’s deep blue gaze.  
  
“Your Grace, I understand your anger at Ser Jaime. He has been no friend to House Stark in the past years, however if we do not work together we can not expect to survive this war. Lady Brienne and my sister Arya have informed me that Jaime spoke of news that was of utmost importance.” Lady Sansa’s voice echoed through the hall, her tone caught Dany by surprise. Dany would have never guessed, the kind courteous Lady of Winterfell had it in her to speak against her Queen.  
  
“Lady Sansa, how far would you trust someone who charged across a battlefield with the sole intent of murdering you? Not very far, I imagine. Anything he has to say can not be trusted. He is a man without honor, and I intend to treat him as such.” Dany paced the length of the table they all sat around, she stopped right across from Sansa. Jon sat silently beside her, keeping his gaze low.  
  
“He might be one of the worst shits in all of Westeros, but he marched here with the Tully forces. Ser Jaime must have spoken to our Lord uncle Edmure, we don’t even know how many men there are. They wonder why their commander has been taken prisoner.” Arya told her,   
“He might have information on the whereabouts of the missing Lannister forces.”  
  
Dany sighed “I will not argue on the matter any longer. The Kingslayer pays for his crimes against my family today. That is final.” She stormed out of the hall and across the crowded courtyard. Things are different here in the North, that much she’d learned quickly. Lords and Ladies are much too comfortable voicing their grievances. She found it quite amusing when she’d first arrived, however Dany found it was beginning to irritate her.  
  
This is what I wanted, she thought, The King in the North has bent the knee to me and Cersei Lannister has agreed to the armistice. She would not compromise, or try to please others any longer. It had never served her before, why would it now?  
A dragon does not compromise.

_______________________________________________________________________________

**Jon**

“I will not argue on the matter any longer. The Kingslayer pays for his crimes against my family today. That is final.” Danys nostrils flared while her violet eyes narrowed, she turned around and quickly left the great hall.   
  
Sansa turned to look at Jon, who had stayed quiet through the whole meeting.  
Jon started thinking of a way to change her mind. Executing the Kingslayer before giving him a chance to explain himself was foolish. He would convince Dany to spare him, and hear whatever news he may bring.  
  
Judging by the way that meeting went she’ll want me to comfort her, he thought. He knew exactly what she wanted, however he’d sworn to himself that he would not lie with her again.  
  
Shame crept up his spine, as he remembered what Sam had told him about the relation between Dany and Jon. He said that their relation to one another was similar to that of a parent and child, due to the many generations of the Targaryen practice of sibling inbreeding, Jon cringed.  
‘How could you have known?’ Sam asked, his voice supportive and kind.  
  
Jon finally spoke, “I will go speak to Queen Daenerys.” He announced over the bickering voices in the hall.  
  
“She won’t so much as listen to us, don’t you see how little our opinions mean to her?” Arya asked.  
  
“If anyone can make her listen, it’s Jon.” Tyrion smiled as he reached for a goblet of wine.  
  
“And what do you think Bran?” Sansa asked him  
  
Bran looked directly at Jon when he said   
“Jaime has very important information. It would be a great advantage to everyone, including Queen Daenerys, if he is released.” Jon wondered if Bran already knew of the news. He must know, Bran knows everything. For whatever reason, Bran wanted Jaime to be released. That meant it was important, and necessary.  
  
“We don’t have time for a trial.” Jon said,   
“But I can try to persuade the Queen to let me hear what the Kingslayer has to say. I’ll do my best to see that he is released. With help from the Lady of Winterfell,” he nodded to Sansa,   
“I’m sure the Lords would agree that we should, at the very least, hear what he has to say. The Kingslayer will then be free deliver the news he brings.”  
  
Sansa stood up “Let’s get to work then.” With that she gave him an encouraging smile and walked off. One by one everyone left the hall. Soon only Jon was left, with a deep sigh he stood up and walked across the courtyard.   
  
He stood outside of the door. God’s forgive me, he thought before knocking. Dany opened the door and met him with a cold violet glare.  
________________________________________________________________________________ 

**Daenerys**

He looked so handsome standing at her door, his smoldering eyes in full effect. She fought back a smile “I hope you’re not here to talk about the Kingslayer.” She said flatly.  
  
“My Queen, I only wanted to offer my counsel to you.” He looked from her face to the floor   
“But, if I am intruding-“ he stepped away from her.  
  
“You’re not.” She stepped aside allowing him to enter her chambers. Jon walked over to sit on a chair by the fireplace.  
  
“Your Grace, I ask that you let me go down to the dungeon and hear what the Kingslayer has to say. I won’t let him near you, and if I feel he poses any danger I will kill him myself.” He softly explained to her.  
  
“On Goldroad he commanded the use of a large device made for one reason and one reason alone. To kill my dragons. I had climbed off of Drogon to pull out an arrow. When I got it out, I turned around to see the Kingslayer coming to kill me. Moments before he would have reached me, Drogon defended his mother. Can’t you see my children will never be safe while he is free?” Dany asked.  
  
“I’m not asking you to forgive him, your Grace. I only ask that you allow him to uphold his vow to help our cause. He marched an army of men from the Riverlands.” Dany sighed, as Jon continued   
“Edmure Tully must have sent the Kingslayer to march his forces to defend his nieces and nephew.”  
  
Danys eyebrows shot up and she went silent for a few moments.  
“ _If_ I do allow him to be released, it would be only because he is commanding the army of the Starks kin, this Tully man. I did not realize they were kin, and I do not wish to offend the Northern houses or give them yet another reason to hate me.” She told him.  
  
“They don’t hate you. They are less trusting of southerners, it’s true. When we defeat the night king, they’ll see that you’ve saved the realm. For now, it’ll take time for them to warm up to you.” He assured her with his voice like honey.   
She had begun to write orders to her men standing guard in the dungeon on a piece of parchment, and then folded it in half and placed it on the mantle.  
  
“And what about you? When will you warm up to me....” she paused, pouting her lips,   
“again?” She looked into the fire, avoiding his gaze. If she fell into the grey depths, she’d surrender to her every desire. She felt his eyes on her but forced her gaze on the hearth.  
  
They hadn’t shared a bed together since they sailed together to White Harbor. Jon stood up and paced to her side.  
“There’s so much work to be done. I apologize if I’ve made you feel-“ he started  
  
Her sharp voice cut him off “I don’t want you to apologize to me.” She turned to face him, he was looking down at his feet.  
  
She closed the space between them, she traced the side of his face placing her hand on his chin. She lifted it to meet his gaze, and reached over to guide Jon’s hand up the curve of her waist. His breathing sped up, as she gently pressed her lips to his and led his hand over her breast. The sensation lit a fire in between her thighs and made her heart race with desire.  
  
“I want you to come to bed with me.” She whispered.   
  
She opened her eyes and watched as he turned his body away from her. He quickly grabbed the orders she had written off of the mantle, and tucked them away in his cloak.  
  
Her breath caught and she felt a sharp pain, like an icicle plunging into her heart. She stood proudly, determined to keep him from seeing her embarrassment.  
  
“Forgive me your Grace,” Jon told her   
“I thought I’d... go speak with the Kingslayer... immediately.”  
  
“Of course.” She steadied her breathing and turned away from him.  
  
Jon muttered “Thank you, your Grace.” He bowed and darted through the door.  
  
Something has changed, Dany thought to herself, and I’m going to figure out exactly what it is. She looked down at the papers she had been working on before Jon visited her and weighed them down with a book. She took her cloak off the back of the chair and left her chambers in search of Varys. Perhaps her Master of Whispers could find out what was going on.  
  
Danys mind once again drifted back to her rule in Meereen as she walked out of her chambers. How many sacrifices had she made to bring peace to the city? Each compromise feeling more and more like defeat each time she was forced into it. This time will be different, she tells herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in the story I feel like Dany is embracing her Mother of Dragons persona over the Mhysa to all persona. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!! :)


	6. But It’s War!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime finally spills the tea! And it’s scalding!!!

**Jon**

Jon descended the stairs of the dungeon. He gave the unsullied soldiers standing guard Dany’s orders to release the Kingslayer. Jon wanted to have a word with him before letting him out of the dungeon. He waited for the soldiers to leave, then walked down to the cell he was being held in.  
  
Jon took a good look at him. He remembered all those years ago, when he’d looked at Jaime Lannister and thought that was what a king should look like.  
  
His hair was short now, he had a scruffy beard patched with silver hairs, his eyes looked tired, but still gleamed like emeralds through the darkness of the dungeon. The smug look in his face, however remained the same.  
  
“If it isn’t Naughty Ned Stark’s Bastard, or is it Your Grace now? No... Warden of the North. That’s it.” He lay on the cot facing up arms folded under his head.  
  
“How did you gain control of the Tully army? Did you hurt Edmure?” Jon calmly asked.  
  
Jaime slowly sat up “I will gladly tell the Lady of Winterfell all that she wishes to know about her uncles army.” He narrowed his eyes, though his voice remained friendly,  
“You see bastard, these are family matters. Lady Catelyn Stark was never very fond of you was she? This doesn’t concern you, or your bloody reptile Queen.” He walked up to Jon, separated only by the iron bars between them.  
  
Jon grabbed Jaime by his armor and pulled him against the bars of the cell.  
  
“Listen to me Kingslayer, if you bring any harm to Sansa- I’ll kill you myself. Do you understand me?” Jon growled his face twisted into a snarl and he let Jaime go.  
  
Jon opened the gate to the cell, “Follow me.” Jon said.  
  
Jaime followed him out of the dungeons where they were accompanied by two burly Northern guards. Out in the courtyard, Tyrion had been waiting for them. Jon slowed his pace until he was out of Jaime’s ear shot, to speak to Tyrion while they made their way to Sansa’s solar.  
  
“You have a gift for persuasion, my Lord.” Tyrion told him  
  
Jon kept his voice low, he asked “Do you still remember our agreement back from when we sailed to Kings Landing?”  
  
Tyrion had agreed to help Jon the best way he could, by giving counsel to the quarreling Queens. He proved he was capable of it when Cersei didn’t agree to the truce, by convincing his sister to help. Jon didn’t understand why Tyrion would help anyone other than the Queen he serves as hand.  
  
“Of course I do.” Tyrion sighed.  
  
Now, Jon perfectly understood his reasons. It’s not easy to help destroy the last of your remaining family.   
Tyrion is simply doing what I’m doing, he thought, trying to protect the ones he loves. The worried look on Tyrion’s face as he walked behind his brother, reinforced Jon’s suspicions.  
  
“The Great War comes first.” Tyrion answered before walking into Sansa’s solar.  
  
Jon followed closing the door behind him, while two north men stood guard outside.

  


 

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

**Sansa**

Jaime Lannister walked through the door of Sansa’s solar followed by Tyrion and Jon. Sansa felt a wave of relief that Jon was able to change the Queens mind. Arya stood beside Bran flipping around her dagger. Sam and Davos were reading scrolls by the fire. Brienne had been pacing back and forth, she stopped the moment he walked in. Jaime kept his eyes cast down to the floor.  
  
“Ser Jaime Lannister, I am told you have important news you’d like to share with me.” Sansa told him,  
“I apologize for the way you were treated, our Queen was-“ she paused “Overwhelmed by the large number of men at the gates. She has allowed us to speak to you now that the matter is settled.” She lied sweetly, with a reassuring smile.  
  
“My Lady, You are too kind.” Jaime told her, “I bring you news of my sister Cersei.”  
  
“Yes, our Queen was expecting Cersei’s forces to arrive here in Winterfell, a few days ago. Is there some sort of delay?” Sansa asked.  
  
“Im afraid there is no delay. You see, the battle of Goldroad took most of the Lannister army. When the dragon queen unleashed her Dorthraki horde upon us on the battlefield, vast numbers of our men, as well as food wagons were lost to the dragon fire.” Jaime sat in a chair directly across from her.  
  
“Dragon fire?” Sansa asked, fighting the urge to look at Jon.  
  
Jaime’s eyes grew distant “New of the battle hasn’t reached this far North, I presume. On our way back to Kings Landing, from out sack of High Garden there was a battle on Goldroad. We suffered a great loss, thousands of men burned in their armors. My men.” He told her.  
  
Sansa heard herself gasp, this was the first time she was hearing of it.  
  
“Had you not finished a massacre of your own, only moments before Daenerys arrived?! You wiped House Tyrell out of existence! How is that any different?” Tyrion exclaimed looking around the room for assurance.  
  
“The Tyrell army was defeated, yes. They fought until the very end, with swords in their hands and fell with dignity. Any of the men who survived, were taken prisoner. Most have already been returned by trading their freedom for grain. Cersei will use that grain to replace the lost wagons from the battle.” He paused,  
“I was told that there were two brave men who refused to kneel to her that day. Lord Randyll Tarly along side his own son Rickon, we’re executed. They were burned alive, just to send the message that whoever refuses to bend the knee, would be met with fire and blood.”  
  
The room grew silent, Sansa’s eyes darted to Sam.  
  
“Dickon?” Sam asked as he stood up  
  
“That was it, Dickon!! I fought beside him in High Garden, good lad.” Jaime said with a sad smile.  
  
Sansa had just spoken with Sam about the trade plans house Stark could make with House Tarly moments ago, while they waited for Jon to bring Jaime up to her solar. He stood by the fireplace, both hands clenched in front of him. His breathing started to pick up. Sansa stood up and walked over to stand beside him.  
  
Tyrion was the first to speak  
“Our Queen did give them a choice, I’d like to remind you.” Tyrion told Jaime.  
  
“Bend the knee or be destroyed.” Jon said softly, his eyes narrowed,   
“And this was the day Theon arrived to Dragonstone?” Jon asked Tyrion  
  
“It.... it might have been.” He answered  
  
“So you both kept it from me... Why?!” Jon was fuming, his eyes were dark and his voice cold.  
  
“It wasn’t my place to inform you of her military tactics...” He responded nervously looking up at him.  
  
Jon stood up and stalked across the room to Tyrion, his hands clenched into fists.  
  
“Our Queen gave them the chance to take the black, they refused. They were loyal to Cersei until the very end, Cersei, who we were at war with, might I remind you. What was Daenerys to do? They could have bent the knee and been done with it but-“ Tyrion backed away from Jon as he approached until his back was up against the wall.  
  
“Little brother, you’re smarter than that. If it absolutely had to be done, she could have hanged or beheaded them. A quick, clean death, those men died screaming all becau-“ Jaime started.  
  
“That’s enough!!” Sansa shouted, she looked at Jon,   
“Can’t you see Sam is in pain?” She asked him. Sam’s wide eyes welled over with tears, he sunk down to the floor while his body heaved with a sob.  
  
“I’m so sorry. I- I didn’t know.” Jon paced over to Sam, he fell to his friend’s side.  
  
“We will help your family in every way we can. I will send our best men to make sure they are well protected until you decide what you wish to do.” Sansa told him softly  
  
“Thank you my Lady.” He breathed. Sam turned to her, his face flushed. He started to say something, but his voice broke. Sansa sunk down to the floor beside him. She remembered the pain she’d felt when she heard of how her family had suffered a slow agonizing death. She remembered the days spent in her chambers, the uncontrollable sobs that shook her body until exhaustion would finally take over and she’d escape the pain in her dreams.   
  
“I’m sorry Sam.” Sansa whispered to him.  
  
He took a deep breath and muttered,   
“A raven...I must send a raven to Horn Hill at once.” Sam stood up and ran out the door.  
  
“Ser Jaime must be released.” Bran said cutting through the silence lingering after Sam had gone.  
  
“Have you forgotten that this is the man who pushed you out of a window as a boy?” Arya asked him with an eyebrow raised  
  
“I haven’t forgotten. It’s in the past, Ser Jaime could have run anywhere, but he came here. We need his help.” Bran said.  
  
Jaime’s eyes were wide,  
“Thank you my Lord.” He looked down at the floor.   
“There’s more, The battle of Goldroad has reduced the Lannister army to just below 2,000 men. Cersei has sent Euron Greyjoy to Essos. He’s probably ferrying the Golden Company across the Narrow sea as we speak. She plans to let her enemies destroy each other in the North, and use the Golden Company to defeat whatever is left. She never intended on honoring the armistice, she only wanted to assess her enemies. The summit in Kings Landing did just that.” Jaime told them.  
  
Jon and Tyrion exchanged the strangest glance, while the others argued about what the next course of action should be.   
  
Sansa had been expecting Cersei would find a way to destroy them all. From the moment she read Jon’s scroll informing Sansa that Cersei had pledged her forces to their cause.  
  
“The Golden Company?” Tyrion asked,  
“We are well and truly fucked now, aren’t we?”  
  
“How many?” Jon asked, hunched over on the floor.  
  
“20,000 sell swords, horses, and... war elephants.” Jaime answered pacing over to Sansa, sitting on her knees.  
  
“I refuse to serve the Mad Kings daughter. I refuse to serve Cersei. I refuse to serve the Warden of the North.”   
Jon stood up quickly, but said nothing.  
“I have come here to serve you, Sansa Stark. If you’ll have me that is.”  
  
Then, without hesitation, Jaime lowered his sword before Sansa and knelt down on one knee.   
"Lady Sansa, I offer my services to you," he said,   
"I will shield your back, and keep your counsel, I will give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new." Jaime spoke the vow with his eyes cast down at her feet.  
  
The gesture took Sansa by surprise.  
She looked at Brienne who proudly smiled at her.   
She looked to her side at Jon, he slightly shook his head from side to side.   
She looked at Tyrion, who’s mouth hung open in shock.  
  
Sansa stood proudly, "And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth," she began.  
"I vow that you shall always have meat and mead at my table. I pledge to ask no service of you that may bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new," she finished.   
"Arise Ser Jaime.” She smiled down at him. He stood up and his face lit up with a smile that made Sansa blush.  
  
“Thank you My Lady. Now that I have pledged myself before these lords and ladies, there is one last matter I would like to inform you of. Your Lord Uncle Edmure called his banners in the Trident, and has pledged 5,000 men to fight for House Stark. He made it clear to his men that they are to fight for House Stark alone, so as the head of House Stark, my lady these men are at your command. Your uncle trusted me to march them here... well... maybe trust isn’t the right word I may have been a bit-.”  
  
Jon’s voice cut through Jaime's words, “No, it isn’t.” Jon told him   
“There is not one thing about you that I find trustworthy.”  
  
“How lucky, then I must be, that Lady Sansa does.” He said, turning back to Sansa,   
“My Lady, as former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, I offer my experience to you. However, if you’d like to assign someone else to the position I will gladly step aside.”  
  
Sansa looked at Bran for a moment, his eyes focused on Jaime.   
She looked at Jon, who’s gaze had fallen to the floor.   
Finally she looked at Arya, her grey eyes narrowed at Jaime.  
“Why are you doing this?” Arya walked up to him “Why now? After everything that’s happened?”  
  
“I was your brothers prisoner once. Lady Catlyn Stark went against his wishes and set me free, on the condition that I send her daughters back to Winterfell where they belonged.” He looked at Brienne as he said,  
“I owe her my life.”   
He looked back at Arya   
“The Great War is here, and I want to fight for the realm.” Jaime said  
  
“Thank you for your bravery, Ser Jaime. Bringing word all this way, must have been no easy task.” Sansa looked around the room at all the worried faces.   
“This new information may upset our Queen. We don’t want to upset her, which is why it must never leave this room.” She looked at Tyrion.  
  
“I have spoken to Jon about this. I won’t say a word.” He nodded in agreement.  
  
“Ser Jaime only told us of his new position as Commander of the Tully forces, and the unfortunate fate of the Tarlys, should anyone ask. There is so much more work to be done now, if you’ll excuse me I must find a book in my chambers.” Sansa walked out of her solar.   
  
Instead of walking down the hall to her chambers, she walked out of the tower and up the stairs in the courtyard. The winter winds whipped her face with snow, and her hair flew into the air wildly. She walked up the stairs to the battlements and looked to the south. The snow was falling from every direction, she could tell a storm was coming. She could feel it in her bones.  
  
Seven Hells does Jon ever listen to a single word I say? she thought, it could be a trap... Cersei could have sent her brother here to take me back to Kings Landing so she could finally have her revenge.  
  
She took a deep calming breath, it floated up into the air in a thick mist. I will fear her no longer, she decided.   
  
Banishing the paranoid thoughts from her mind, Sansa looked down at her hands clutched before her. She lifted her hood and took another deep breath, clearing her mind.  
  
_Which is more dangerous, the dagger brandished by an enemy, or the hidden one pressed to your back by someone you never even see?_  
  
“The hidden dagger.” She said, her hair whipping like a flame against the icy winds.  
  
_There's a clever girl._  
  
Even in death, Littlefinger’s words echoed in her head, they sparked an idea. A plan to protect her family from the many threats that surrounded them.


	7. Love Is Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya comes across some interesting information and Bran has some troubles.

**Arya**

Arya hid in a dark corner of the hallway, as she watched Queen Daenerys urgently walk out of her chambers. She made sure the hall was clear before slipping a thin needle into the keyhole of the door and sneaking in. 

Arya looked around the room, she saw the many silks and fine dresses hanging neatly in a corner above a row of shoes. The roaring flames of the fireplace illuminated a large silver dragon clasp holding a large chest shut at the foot of the bed. Arya tried to open it but found it to be locked. She used her lock picking needle and was soon going through the bags inside. Nothing, she thought if there would be anything to hide it would be locked away. Arya furrowed her brow while she focused on the silver dragon, looking in the reflection was the red glow from the hearth beside the desk. 

Arya stood up and walked over to the desk. There lay a stack of papers under a book on the desk. Arya walked over to read the title, it was The Great Houses of Westeros. She picked up a stack of papers and found that she held in her hands a draft of a royal charter. 

She’s going to legitimize Jon as Father’s true born son to make him Lord of Winterfell. Jon always wanted to be a Stark, Arya thought, and becoming Lord of Winterfell would give Dany true power over the North especially if the rumors of marriage were true. 

Arya set everything down the way she found it. She made her way down the hall and down to the crypts, where she’d last seen Jon heading.

 

 

“Do you love Daenerys?” Arya asked walking out of the shadows, where she had been quietly watching Jon. 

“Seven hells Arya how many times have I asked you not to... lurk” a half smile flashed across his face before returning back to the statue of Aunt Lyanna. 

“Why do you defend her when you know she’s wrong? Is it because you love her?” She asked. 

Could Jon have conspired with the Queen to take Winterfell for himself?

No, when Jon found the dire wolf pups in the woods all those years ago, he counted the 5 pups for her brothers and sister, leaving himself out before finding Ghost. He would never conspire against his own pack. 

“I don’t agree with her, but we need her so I’ve got to keep her happy.” he kept his focus on the beautiful statue before him.

”She burned a father beside his own son, just like the Mad King burned our grandfather beside our uncle...” Arya sighed,  
“Love is blind, I suppose.” She said, remembering the way Sansa used to defend Joffrey to no end. 

“I’m sorry. You’ve every right to be upset with me.” He said

“I’m not upset with you, Jon. I‘m just having trouble understanding why you listen to her and talk to her so kindly, when all she’s done is take your kingdom.” She walked up to Lyannas statue and picked up a winter rose that lay on her stone hands,  
“Perhaps you’ve been spending too much time with Sansa.” Jon’s head snapped in her direction,  
“She will sit and listen to the Lords complain with a smile in her face. She speaks so sweetly to them, before long they’re wrapped around her pretty little finger.” She laughed. 

She had been a bit jealous of their newly formed bond when he had first arrived back to Winterfell. Jon and Arya has always been the odd ones out, it’s what brought them so close together before she’d left to Kings Landing. But it seemed her brothers and sister were all odd now, in one way or another.  
Then her jealousy turned into gratitude that Sansa and Jon weren’t alone anymore, when they had found each other. Together they took back Winterfell and reunited what was left of their family.

“It’s what is expected of her as Lady of Winterfell. She is doing a fine job at keeping the lords happy. So, I take your criticism as a compliment.” His eyes were soft when he spoke and a smile played on his lips.

She put the rose back on Lyannas stone hands,  
“This is why I’m no good at politics. When someone disagrees with me, the last thing I want to do is make them happy.” She teased  
“It’s too bad Daenerys took your crown, i’d planned on calling you ‘Your Grace’ as much as possible.”  
They laughed and for a moment, things felt just like before. 

He tousled her messy half bun,  
“Anymore questions for me, little sister?” He asked.

Arya paused, “There’s gossip that after the war is won, you will marry the Queen“ she heard that from the kitchen maids one morning,  
“Together you will climb on her dragon and fly to Kings Landing where you will serve as King Consort.” She’d heard that from one of the Queens handmaids, who sailed with them.  
“There’s even talk of a babe.” She told him, an eyebrow raised.

“Gossip is just that Arya, gossip.” He looked at her with a half smile  
“The only time I went to Kings Landing, I hated every second I had to be there.” He laughed 

“And the bit about the babe?” She asked. 

“Not possible.” He muttered.

“Good. Come spar with me, maybe I can teach you a few things.” She pulled him along, out of the crypts and into the courtyard. 

 

 

 

Arya and Jon walk past the archers practicing their shots. Mostly children and women, Jon was quickly whisked away by Lord Royce leaving Arya near the armory. 

As she walked to the training area, she wondered if Sansa would be upset about Danys plan. She took out her dagger and spun it around in her hand. 

I’ll have to tell her, she thought. She quickly turned around, flipping the dagger into her other hand. 

Arya turned the corner of the yard when she saw Gendry, he was sitting on a bench talking to Podrick. His muscles tense from hammering steel, glistening with sweat in all the right places.

“A bit rude the way m’lady is staring at me, don’t you think Pod?” His bright blue eyes wrenched her heart. 

Arya narrowed her eyes at him,  
“How could anyone ignore that stink of yours?” She yelled back. 

Podrick stood up nervously and rushed away.  
Gendry stood up, towering over Arya,  
“All these years, and you still haven’t learned not to insult people that are bigger than you.” He said, through a sweet smile. 

Seven Hells he was strong, she thought, focusing her eyes on anything other than the dance his biceps were doing while he held his bull head helmet in his hand.

“You might be bigger, but you’re also slower.” She quickly swiped the helmet from him and turned to run away. She had only taken one step when Gendry slipped his arms around her waist and twirled her around in the opposite direction from where she was running. Instinctively, she took his lean forearms in her hands and maneuvered her way around his arms. She turned, and tried to pin him against the post of the forgery, only he was so much bigger than her. 

She looked up at him, ready to insult him once again. When he traced his fingers up her cheekbone and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. Arya felt the heat of a blush rushing through her face. She quickly turned away so he wouldn’t see. 

“Your hair is a bit mussed up, I-“ he paused “I was only trying to make it better.” 

She scoffed, “That was Jon,” she pulled off the ribbon holding together her the remnants of her bun.  
“Gendry, what do you think of this Dragon Queen?”

“I don’t know much about her. She sure is pretty though don’t you think? Her silver hair, and those pouty lips!” He sighed smiling like a damned fool.

Her belly turned and she looked at him, “I don’t know why I bother talking to you, all you know how to do is make... steel! I have to go talk to my sister.” She got up and set down Gendrys helmet.  
She started walking away, when she heard Gendry laughing at her. She whipped around, and he stopped laughing only to raise a stupid perfect eyebrow at her. 

She stormed off, annoyed at how jealous that little remark was making her. She crossed the courtyard and made her way to Sansa’s solar. While she walked she thought of the day she had invited Gendry to live in Winterfell. He had rejected her and made her feel like a stupid child.  
Many years may have gone by, but when he unleashes the full extent of his blue eyes, Arya becomes that foolish little girl all over again. 

She turned the hall and caught a glimpse of Varys and Daenerys walking close together down the stair case. They had been so focused on their conversation, they didn’t even see Arya turn into a dark corner out of sight. 

“What you purpose could cause a divide in the region, your Grace. House Stark has always been very close. The Houses remain fiercely loyal, without their approval it could do more harm than good.” Varys explained.

“I’m not trying to tear apart their family, I only want to reassign-.” Her voice faded away.

They continue down the stairs out of Arya’s ear shot.  
She quickly ran into Sansa’s solar, locking the door behind her.

 

 

 

“Arya!? You nearly scared me to death!” Sansa yelled

“Sansa! There’s something I wanted to share with you, it’s about Daenerys!” Arya sat in a chair across the desk from Sansa. 

“What happened to your face?” Sansa asked  
“and your- hair?”

“Not important!” Arya told her, “Daenerys is planning to legitimize Jon so he could be Lord of Winterfell. Then she plans on marrying him.”  
She told her all in one breath.

Sansa remained quiet for a few moments before finally speaking  
“Yes, that would be a very smart thing for her to do. I suppose Jon would be able to handle the Lords quite well. Together-“ she sighed  
“Together they will be difficult to defeat.” 

Arya looked at her sister’s face while she spoke of Dany and Jon. Her eyes were visibly welling up with tears and her face was slowly turning red. 

“Are you upset that you won’t be Lady of Winterfell anymore?” She asked. Arya made sure to watch her tone, she didn’t want to hurt Sansa.

“It’s not that, I just” she paused,  
“I worry about Jon. He’s fallen in love with her. What if she decides to use his love for her...to move him for her own personal gain. We’ve only just reunited. I don’t want to lose him again!- or any of you.” 

Ooooooh, Arya thought, she raised an eyebrow at her,  
“When you think of Jon marrying the Queen, does it make you feel... I don’t know... Irrationally protective over him?” Arya felt a blush rising in her cheeks, thinking of her outburst in the courtyard.

“What, no! Of course I’m not jealous... I just don’t-“ her eyes were darting all around the room as if she were looking for the right thing to say.

“I was jealous of you and Jon at first.” Arya told her.

“Jon and I?- But that’s completely ridiculous.” Sansa laughed nervously.

“No it’s not. I wanted to be Jons favorite little sister, just like before. But then I realized nothing will ever be the way it was before. And I’m just glad to have my family back.”  
Arya told her,  
“I don’t think Jon is going take her offer, I’m not even sure he knows about it. He says you’re doing a fine job as Lady of Winterfell.” Arya watched as Sansa‘s eyes lit up, a smile slowly spread across her beautiful face.

“He said that?” She said the smile faded, while her eyebrows slowly knit together, “-Wait, how did you find out about the plan?” Sansa asked.

“I looked through her chambers while she was off doing- whatever it is she does” she said with a shrug.

“Arya, you could’ve been caught! You have to be more careful.” Sansa looked so worried, it felt nice to know that someone was worrying about her again. Sansa was so much like their mother sometimes, Arya couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of being scolded as a child. Only this time she wasn’t being scolded for ruining her pretty dress. Arya was always careful not to make any mistakes.  
“After hearing what she did to poor Sams family, I just wanted to see what she was really about.” She explained, “and I did.” 

“Yes, now imagine what she’d do to you if she found you snooping through her chambers!” Sansa stood up and walked to her window.  
“We can’t give her any reason to doubt our loyalty.” Sansa said while looking at the quick falling snowfall outside. 

Arya rolled her eyes “Don’t tell me you like her too?! First Jon then Gendry now you?!” She scoffed.

“Gendry?” Sansa asked turning her attention to her sister,  
“The young muscular blacksmith, with the blue eyes?” 

“No!” Arya yelled, she shared a look with Sansa and they started laughing.

She stood beside Arya, as she cleaned up the dirt marks Gendry’s fingers had left on her cheek. Sansa ran her fingers through her sisters hair, she started braiding and tugging, “Arya, There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Sansa said, her voice low.  
“It involves you, and Bran.” 

Arya tilted her head “What about Jon?” She asked. 

“Jon’s always trying to protect me, he can’t know.” She told her.

“What’s it about? The Dragon Queen?” Arya tilted her head again.

“And Cersei... and the Night King too. Everything.” Sansa gently guided Arya’s head back into position to continue working on the wild tangles in her hair. 

“I expect before long, we’ll all be separated. It must be on our terms, rather than anyone else’s. We will each have a task, even Jon.” Sansa told her,  
“I am going to take some blankets and furs to Winter Town tomorrow. Jon will lead the march off to the battle, while I’m away. You and Bran must stay in Winterfell. I’ve stored food in every single one of our stores.”  
Sansa continued with her plan, Arya smiled at the brilliance of it. 

 

 

“What if something happens to you? It’s stupid to go alone.” Arya said, running her fingers through the half of hair Sansa left loose.

“Absolutely not, I don’t want to get anybody killed for trying to protect me.” Sansa told her. 

Arya sighed heavily “Well then you’re going to get yourself killed.” 

Sansa pulled Arya up and wrapped their arms together. 

“Where are we going?” Arya said trying to pull her arm free.

“We’re going to talk to The Three Eyed Raven.” Sansa said, leading the way to the Gods Wood.

 

 

Arya’s breath was uneven as they arrived the Heart tree in the Godswood. Sansa took long strides the whole way there, Arya had to double her pace just to keep up. Ghost had joined them the moment they’d reached the woods. He’s such a good boy, Arya thought.

“Bran, I wanted to ask you something, and tell you something as well.” Sansa started.

Bran had been sitting there all by himself before they had come out, or was he expecting them? Arya remembered back when she and Bran would sneak up on one another as children. They once had a game where they’d scare Sansa, to see who could make her scream the loudest. Sneaking up on Bran would not be as easy as it was then.

Sansa ran her hand through Ghosts coat, while she told them their plan. 

Arya interjected a few points that needed improvement. She brought up the first point again.  
“Please tell Sansa she will die out there if she doesn’t listen.” 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Bran**

“You’ll never make it there alone.” Bran said.

“Told you so.” Arya smiled at Sansa.

“Fine, what if I take a few men?” She asked.

“How many men?” Bran asked, touching his hand to the Heart tree. 

“Let’s say 25 good men.” She answered.

He focused his thoughts on the detail.  
_Bran was standing in a snow covered field. He looked around and saw Sansa’s 25 good men all dead. Bran ran up to a body that still struggled to stay alive. Before he was able to reach it, the body had stopped moving. Bran looked down at the man’s face, to see if he might recognize him. Suddenly the mans eyes flung open. He sits up and stairs right into Brans eyes. With a metallic screech, he stood up in one movement. Bran started to back away, but before long he was surrounded by icy blue stares. He closed his eyes and focused on waking up._  
Bran blinked his eyes open, Arya and Sansa both staring at him. 

“No that won’t work either.” He told them.

“Well that settles it then, don’t go! Stay here with Bran and I.” Said Arya with a smile.

“No, this has to be done.” Sansa was clutching her hands together. 

“Well then send someone else!” Arya was growing frustrated. 

“No. It has to be me.” Sansa sighed and after a few moments of silence, she asked “What if I take Brienne?” 

“Where’s Jon? Has he told you yet?” Bran asked, wondering why he wasn’t here.

“Told us what?” Arya asked him.

“About- the wall... its fallen.” He told them.  
What Bran had been referring to was Jon’s parental lineage, but judging by the confusion in their faces, Bran had figured Jon hadn’t told them yet.  
He must be protecting them, Bran thought. If they knew, Sansa wouldn’t have to go anywhere.  
No, Bran told himself, it’s not my place to tell them. It could alter a major moment... causing everything to merge onto another path.

He placed his hand on the Heart tree again and focused his thoughts.  
_Bran found himself on a snow covered field. He caught a glimpse of Sansa and Brienne, both mounted on horses. They ran across the woods, but Bran didn’t look in to see what happened next._  
_The moment he spotted the shadowy figure emerging out of the edge of the woods, Bran knew something was wrong. The darkness slowly approached him, he ran, knowing how this would end._  
_He looked to his side, and saw it was catching up to him. He pushed himself forward, his legs ran as fast as they could carry him, but it wasn’t enough._  
_“Sansa!!!!” Bran reached out his hands and screamed, tears ran down his cheeks as everything was consumed by the shadow._ _The last thing he saw was Sansa’s red hair whipping around her face as she turned around still on her horse, to look back at him. Her eyes scanned the clearing, before she turned back around._  
_And soon even that had been replaced with nothingness.  
_ _Bran felt the familiar creep up his spine, screaming as it forced its way into his mind. He remembered Meera, her thick dark hair framed her lovely face. It was the night the white walkers had attacked the Great Weirwood Tree. He remembered wondering what she would think if he should suddenly tell her that he loved her. The feeling he would get when he looked upon her face, warmed his heart once last time before it started to fade away._ Bran screamed after the lost memory, he tried to hold on to it. He tried to remember what it was he’d just lost. He focused his thoughts on waking himself up, but there was nothing. Darkness surrounded him and soon he was unconscious.

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Arya**

Brans eyes went completely white and his body fell limp. This strange new power Bran had acquired was quite fascinating to her. She looked at Sansa who was looking up at the face carved into the Heart tree. She watched as her sister closed her eyes as if she were in prayer. 

Brans steady breathing started to speed up, Sansa and Arya both inched closer to him. His body started shaking with each breath her drew. 

“Is he okay? This didn’t happen the last time he did it...” Arya told Sansa.

His breathing became shorter and his body started convulsing.

“Something is wrong, lets take him to the Maester!” Sansa shouted, as she ran pushing Bran’s wheeled chair across the Godswood, and through the courtyard. 

Arya helped Sansa try to carry Bran up the staircase to the Maester, but it was so difficult with Brans convulsions.  
“Together- one, two, three! Lift” Arya shouted and lifted her brothers legs with all her might. Brans body lifted up, and for a moment Arya was surprised at their strength. 

When she opened her eyes, she saw Gendry had come to help them. She watched him quickly carry Bran up the stairs, she and Sansa both followed close behind, Ghost stayed at the foot of the stairs.

Arya quickened her pace and opened the door, so Gendry could bring Bran into the Masters Turret. He laid him down on one of the featherbeds lined up against the wall.

“Maester Wolkan, it’s Bran! He’s having some sort of... seizure!!” Arya yelled, her voice was quick between her uneven breaths.

“Quickly, Everyone grab a limb and hold him down! I’ll watch his head!” Maester Wolkan instructed.

Arya held down one of Brans arms, and Gendry held down the other. Arya looked at Sansa, her hand over her mouth as she stood at the foot of the bed.

Jon burst in through the doors, “Whats happened?” Jon asked.

“Bran was in the middle of a vision, when his breathing sped up and he started having a seizure.” Sansa told him, leaving out any explanation on what they had been doing there to begin with. 

“It’s happened one other time when I was with him in the Godswood, My Lady. He’s told me that this has happened before in the past. We must hold him down to prevent him from hurting himself, until it passes.” Maester Wolkan told them.

Arya sighed in relief, Bran’s convulsions started to slow. Once it had completely stopped, Arya turned to Sansa.  
“You can’t go, not until Bran says it’s okay.” Arya told Sansa, pleading with her voice.

“Go? Where?” Asked Jon.

I could tell him, Arya thought, spoil the whole thing.... I’m sorry Sansa.  
Sansa shook hear head, ever so slightly her eyes begging Arya not to say anything.

Arya took a breath to tell her brother all about Sansa’s death wish, when Daenerys walked through the door. 

Arya watched Jon’s eyes dart to her the moment she closed the door behind her.  
She watched Gendry bow from where he stood.

“You’re Grace, I assure you there is nothing to worry about. After a days rest, Lord Bran should be back in good condition.” Maester Wolkan told her. 

Arya met Sansa’s pleading gaze once again. She didn’t like the idea, but she couldn’t deny that Jon would never allow it. She nodded her head at her sister, agreeing to keep her silence.

 

 

Sansa gathered all the Lords of the North later that day. She announced that she was going to visit Winter Town tomorrow. She told them that she was going to take them some much needed furs and blankets, as well as what little grain they could spare. She said she wanted to get these resources to them since the days were growing shorter. 

Jon was the first to object,  
“Does it have to be you?” He asked, “Can’t you send an emissary?” 

“When the nights grow longer, and the real cold comes, many families in the North will seek refuge there. They need all of the extra help I have to give. After the Bolton’s burned it down, it had been very difficult to rebuild in these harsh conditions.” She paused,  
“It’s a short ride, just outside of Winterfell. I’ll return after a few days, I also want to teach the women how to reinforce leather. It takes some time to learn the skill.” 

“I would offer to join you my Lady, but I am afraid we are leaving to march on the Night King the morning after you depart.” Daenerys tells Sansa. 

Arya fought the urge to roll her eyes, she had been pacing along the wall of the far end of the hall. She spotted Gendry and sat directly across the table from him. 

“If everything goes according to plan, you will return within a month. I will be here awaiting your return, by then.“ Sansa assured Jon.

He reluctantly agreed, Arya sighed. Everyone started making their way out of the hall.

“Can you believe we’re marching on the white walkers already?! Better us marching on them, than the other way around, I suppose.” Gendry said to Arya. 

“We?” She asked him, “I don’t think Jon will need your forging abilities on the battlefield” she laughed.

“Laugh all you want. I’m going.” He stood up.

Arya caught his hand and pulled him back around to face her,  
“What if I asked you to come with me on a secret mission.” 

“Secret mission?!” He asked, doubling over in laughter.

Arya scowled at him, stupid bull headed bastard, she thought.  
“Gendry, please. I want you there.”

She squeezed his hand, and his smile faded.  
“I’m sorry, I have to take care of Davos.” He told her.  
She slowly released his hand, and pushed the chair under the table. 

“Fine. I don’t need you anyway.” She stomped off towards the door. Gendry stepped in front of her, she looked up to meet his gaze.

“I know that,” He told her  
“and I’m sorry.” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his, luckily Gendry did. He looked at her hair,  
“Amazing” he mused,  
“You’ve tamed the birds nest that was growing on your head!” He teased, running a strand of loose hair through his dirty fingers. 

“Why yes, I have.” She beamed a genuine smile at him,  
“And you-“ she sniffed,  
“You still stink!” She darted around him and out the door.


	8. Until We Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somethings got Jon extra moody, an unexpected alliance is made and Sansa leaves for Winter Town.

**Jon**

“I don’t understand it!” Jon exclaimed to Ser Davos. They were in Jon’s chambers discussing Sansa’s visit to Winter Town. She was to depart tomorrow morning, and Jon was to lead the march to battle the following day .

“She’ll be just fine, Jon. She has The Kingslayer’s- er- borrowed?- army protecting her.” Davos told Jon.

“She’s ordered him to leave 2,000 men to hold Winterfell, and the other 3,000 along with the bloody Kingslayer himself, to march North.” Jon told him.

“She is very intelligent, have faith in her, my Lord.”

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in her, It’s just...” he sighed.

“I worry about her. I can’t know she’s protected, if she’s not in Winterfell where she belongs.” Jon had been pacing all around the room.

When Davos fell silent, Jon stopped pacing in front of the table where Davos sat. He wished he could know what he was thinking in that moment, as he quietly looked into the fire place.

“Lady Sansa wants to bring comfort to her people. This is the only way she could think to do it.”

No, something doesn’t feel right. It seemed he was the only one who thought so.

“Well she should think of another way!” Jon shouted, slamming his fists into the table.

Davos gave him a stern look, and then a smile spread through his mouth.

“I’m sorry I- I just have a bad feeling. I won’t even be able to receive word when she returns.” Jon explained, trying to get Davos to understand his frustrations.

“I’ve grown quite fond of Lady Sansa myself, I‘ll miss her too. We won’t be back for many weeks.” Davos told him,

“It’s natural to worry for your sister.”  
Silence filled the space between them

“She’s not.” Jon said slowly shaking his head,  
“She’s not my half sister, she never was.”

Davos narrowed his eyes in confusion, “Care to elaborate?”

So Jon told him, he told him everything. Almost everything- he told him of his parents, Ned’s promise to his mother- he made special care not to tell him about his father annulling his first marriage, among other small details. Davos remained quiet for so long, every second felt like an eternity.  
  
Jon sat down and rubbed his hand over his forehead. Feeling a bit of relief, finally being able to talk about it. Even if it wasn’t all of the truth, it is enough to make him feel better.

“What heavy weight this secret must bear on you, Jon.” Davos tells him.

“Bran and Sam tell me my real name isn’t even Jon, it’s Aegon. Aegon- Sand.” Jon felt guilty, for not telling Davos the complete truth. It was hard for him to even talk about this diluted version of it.

“They told me I could choose what name to go by, I didn’t know what to do or how to deal with all if it.” Jon told him.

“And how did you?” Davos asked.

“It was Sansa. She came here trying to make me feel better, and she did. She helped me find the answer to the question that I had been asking myself, Who am I?” Jon told him.

“You told her about your parents?!” Davos asked.

“No, she doesn’t know. Yet, she helped me all the same.” Jon said.

“Just like she helped me after the Red Woman brought me back.” Jon told him.

“Aye, I remember. I didn’t think you’d fight anymore. You were broken. Then Lady Sansa rode through the gates of Castle Black.” Said Davos.

Jon smiled at the memory, holding her in his arms again. With a sigh, he stood up again and started pacing.

“That’s why I don’t want her leaving the safety of the castle walls.... why can’t she understand that?!” Jon asked.

“Hm I can’t say.... Perhaps it will help to know, when exactly it was that you fell so deeply in love with her?” Davos said, with a knowing smile.

Jon winced, he took a breath to answer, only to release it with a defeated sigh. He felt so ashamed. What must he think of me? He couldn’t even bring himself to confess out loud, that he’d fallen in love with her long before he found out she was not really his half sister.

“How long have you known?”

“I’ve had my suspicions for quite some time.” Davos told him.

They fell silent for a while, until Davos broke into laughter.

“You’re either the luckiest- or unluckiest man who ever lived- died- then lived again.” Davos laughed.

“Lucky?!” Jon was not amused.

“With Lady Sansa not really being your half sister, should she feel the same way about you.... you’d be free to pursue your affections. It’s a lucky thing for anyone to find love in this pile of shit we call life.” Davos told him.

Jon thought of Sansa feeling the same way about him, and felt a smile forming, before he forced it away.

“No, I can’t.” He paused,  
“Love, is the death of Duty.”

“Aye, that may be true. But the Night King could be the death of Humanity as we know it.” Davos stood up and walked over to his friend.

“Lady Sansa has inspired loyalty from some of the toughest fuckers in the Seven Kingdoms, even Ghost has seemed to switch over to her side.”

“I promised I’d protect her, I didn’t tell her that the Hound would, or the Kingslayer. I told her I would. But, she’s making it impossible!” Jon said.

Davos walked over to Jon’s side, and placed a hand on his shoulder,  
“I’m not telling you to tell all of Westeros that your the bastard of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, I know what they’ll do. They’ll make you choose, they’ll act against you, and all of your progress with the Dragon Queen will have been for nothing. Any power you hold in the North will be taken away.”  
He slapped his hand against Jon’s shoulder,

“If we’re careful, no one else will never ever have to know.. What I am telling you, is that we might not survive this war. What could it hurt to let the one you love, know that you care for her?” With that, Davos made his way to the door.

“Thank you Ser Davos, you are my brother.” Jon told him.

“It is an honor to be your ripe elderly brother” Davos laughed, “In the morning then, Lord Snow?”

“Aye, in the morning.” He answered.  
   
 

 

   
   
The next morning Jon woke up early, he hadn’t slept much that night. He bathed and put on his doublet and armor. After the mutiny at Castle Black, Jon was sure to wear his armor at all times.

Sansa leaves for Winter Town in a few hours, he thought. I need to keep my mind busy before I drive myself mad. He decided to borrow one of Sam’s books. His friend hadn’t left his chambers in days, since learning about his father and brother being executed. Jon had been reading about tales of the Children of the Forest, looking for anything that might help them during the Long Night. He made his way back to his chambers, from the Library tower.

It was still dark out, shadows casted out in every corner of the hall. The nights were getting longer and soon the sun would stop rising altogether. As he turned the corner, he stopped in his tracks. A dark figure had emerged from a shadowy corner across the door from his chambers.

“Alright who’s there? Come out here and show yourself!” Jon warned, one hand clutching the book, the other flexed over his hilt.

The figure emerged out of the shadows, it was Varys. His eyes wide, as if in disbelief. His hands clasped together in his sleeves, thin lips pressed together into a small line.  
Jon was about to ask what he wanted, but the look on his face indicated that something was very very wrong. He opened the door, letting the Spider in. He closed the door behind him.  
   
   
 

 

   
“I heard something. I- I needed to make sure it’s true.” Varys was looking all around, as if he might find someone creeping around in the shadows.

“You don’t have to worry, there’s no one here.” Jon assured him.

“I’ll get right to it then, Daenerys has entrusted me to find the reason you have been distant from her.” Varys spoke softly,

“Imagine my surprise to find that you, the bastard of Winterfell are not Ned Starks bastard at all, but a Targaryen bastard.”

Jon’s breath caught in his throat, he turned to Varys and grabbed him by his shoulders,

“That’s enough talking, now it’s time for you to listen. I don’t know what you think you know, but I swear to yo-“ Jon started.

“I heard it from your very own lips.” Varys told him, eyeing his lips.

Jon was furious, he could feel his face twisting into a snarl,

“Did you spy on Davos and I last night?!” Jon shook him, his iron grasp on his shoulders.

“Yes, it’s what I do, is it not?” He showed no fear, or even discomfort from Jon’s grasp,

“It’s not the only thing I heard...” Varys narrowed his eyes and gave him the most treacherous smile.

Jon let him go, he felt his mouth go dry as his snarl twisted into a full scowl,

“What do you want?” Jon demanded. I could kill him now, no one will ever know, Jon thought as he flexed his fingers around Longclaw.

The bald headed man followed him with his gaze, his eyes wide as he focused on his sword hand.  
Jon released his hilt, and ran his hand though his beard,

“I won’t hurt you... now please tell me, who have you told?”

“I haven’t told a soul. I don’t plan to.” Varys told Jon,  
“That’s why I’m here.”

The Spider went on to tell Jon about himself. He was born into slavery and joined an acting troupe, where he was then sold to a sorcerer. The sorcerer has drugged Varys and removed his parts. He told him that he threw his genitals the brazier for a blood ritual.

“When he threw them into the fire I heard a voice. Do you want to know what that voice said?” He paused,

“It said, ‘Save The Last Dragon.’ That voice still haunts me, to this day.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jon asked him.

“At the time, it meant nothing to me. I thought it might’ve been the drugs. Then I thought it was Rhaegar, and Viserys after him, then I thought it might be Daenerys, but I was wrong again. Don’t you see? It’s you, you’re the last dragon.”

Jon sighed, why must everyone insist on forcing these titles and names on him? The Prince That Was Promised? The Last Dragon? He didn’t want it. He didn’t want any of it! Jon started shaking his head.

“No, how can I be? Daenerys is the Mother of Dragons, She’s the un burnt. That’s Daenerys, not me. I’m not any of that.”

“She has grown too violent, my Lord. She doesn’t listen to her advisors, she refuses to compromise, she burns men alive by the thousands and beside their sons, calling it justice. The Mad King appointed me as Master of Whispers, and I was on King Joffrey’s privy council. I’ve seen what cruel rulers can do to the realm, and I fear it will continue to bleed if Daenerys gets her throne.” Varys looked all around again, paranoia rolling off his frantic movements.

“And who do you serve now?” Jon asked him.

“I serve who I’ve always served, my Lord. I serve the people.” Varys told him,

“You see, I believe power resides where men believe it resides. With my help, we could see to it that it does not fall into the wrong hands.”

“I don’t want it.” Jon told him.

“And perhaps that is why you are best suited for it.” Varys said.

“I’ve been watching you. I understand why you’re using Daenerys. You see it too, she is not what the realm needs. What we need is something different. Someone different. Someone like you. Paired with Sansa Starks competency in daily politics, Arya Starks combat abilities, and Bran Starks wisdom. You’d be unstoppable.” He whispered.  
Varys’ eyes gleamed against the glow of the dying hearth,

“My little birds tell me that the Northern Lords have been trying to name Lady Sansa Queen in the North, she’s refused and urged them to stay and support Daenerys... this is going to change when Daenerys announces her plan for you.”

“Aye, I’ve heard of this plan. She wants me to marry her.” Jon watched as Varys shook his head side to side.

“That would not benefit her very much. That’s why she plans to make you a legitimate Stark, you’ll be at the seat of power, the head of house Stark. Did you think she wouldn’t see that the Stark name is where power lies in the North?”

“She doesn’t know a thing about me if she thinks I’d take that offer.” Jon clenched his jaw. He would never take Winterfell away from Ned Stark’s true born heirs. Not after all he‘d sacrificed to keep him alive, even before Jon had learned the truth he declined the same offer by Stannis Baratheon. This was their home, and Jon’s as well.

“It’s a brilliant plan, only instead of Stark, we’ll have to legitimize you as a Targaryen. When Sansa is named Queen in the North, she will be able to do it for you. You’ll rule the South and she the North, I have some things in the works for the other regions.” Varys told him.

“And what about Daenerys? Shall I ask her to kindly abdicate her claim?” Jon scoffed.

“First we must get you legitimized as a Targaryen. Your claim will surpass hers, then she will either accept it or fight.”

“And if she fights? If she gets on her dragons and burns down the castle?” Jon asked.

“I’ll figure out a way, my Lord.” Varys stood up.

“Not a word of this to anyone.” Jon called after him.

“Agreed,” he turned to leave, and looked over his shoulder.

“At least until after the war.” Varys said.

Talking to Varys had taken up quite a bit of time. Jon quickly stood up and threw on his favorite cloak, the one Sansa had made him. He ran to the courtyard, hoping he wasn’t too late.  
 

_____________________________________________________________________________  
   
**Sansa**

“I’m taking a raven so that I can send word, should anything happen.” Sansa told Arya, who had a worried look set in her face.

Sansa knew that Winterfell would be the safest place to be once the real war began. Jon would keep the realm safe from the enemy to the North, while she would do her part to keep it safe from the threat in the South. She was the only one who could do it.

“Let’s hope you don’t need it.” Arya said flatly.

“And if Bran wakes up-“ Sansa started.

“Tell him to take it easy on the visions.” Arya sighed, “Just so you know, I think this is madness.”

“It might seem that way, but as long as you remember everything I’ve told you... it could work.” Sansa assured her sister.

“Could? I don’t like the uncertainty of that word.”

“Trust me.” Sansa said, while she embraced her little sister.

“Fine. Be safe and come back soon.” She returned Sansa’s embrace. Sansa felt the stinging of the tears as she planted a kiss on the top of Arya’s head.

They stepped away, and Sansa looked around. She’d hoped Jon would be there to see her off, but when the time to leave drew near, he was no where to be seen. Sansa all but ran to his chambers and knocked on the door. No answer. She tried once more, and then turned to leave.  
On her way out of the hallway, she came across Varys.

“I wish you good fortune on your journey, My Lady.” Varys told her.

“Thank you.” She smiled, before descending the stairs. Sansa glimpsed him approaching Jon’s chambers, before descending the stairwell.

After taking a quick stroll throughout the entire castle in one last attempt to find Jon, Sansa slowly walked back to the carriage. She noticed that Brienne wasn’t there yet, she’d half expected to see her in the carriage waiting for her.

Sansa stepped into the carriage placing the basket she carried on her lap. She felt a knot rising in her throat as she realized, she would not be able to see him. A freezing chill swooped in through the opened door, blowing the cloth off of the top of her basket.

This is ridiculous, I won’t leave without saying goodbye. She angrily decided, she moved to step out of the carriage door when she spotted Jon running across the courtyard and through the gates in her direction. She sat back down in the carriage and poked her head out.

Jon breathlessly apologized explaining that he had gotten caught up in the library. When he finally caught his breath, Sansa noticed Brienne saying goodbye to Podrick by the gates.

“You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?” Jon asked. His eyes were like storm clouds, distress and sorrow spiraled just beneath the surface.

“No. Of course not! I was just putting the treats I wanted to take to the children in the carriage, so I wouldn’t forget them.” She nodded to the basket, picking up the cloth that had fallen to the floor.

Jon hopped up into the carriage, closing the door behind him.

“Lemon cakes?” Jon laughed, his eyes wrinkling from his smile. Sansa felt herself smiling in embarrassment, her cheeks flushed a burning scarlet red.

“This is my favorite recipe! Not too sour, just sweet enough.” She took one out of the basket and handed it to him.

His smile had faded into a smirk, as he met her gaze.

“Tell me that isn’t the most deliciously balanced lemon cake you’ve ever had.” She told him, offering him a little cake.

He took it, as he moved to the seat in front of her, holding it up at eye level as he examined it.

“Lemon cakes are too sour for my taste. Remember Old Nans? Seven Hells my jaws clench even now, at the memory of it.”

They laughed wildly, Sansa remembered having to ask who made each batch, before having one. Old Nan’s recipe called for way too many lemons, it was the baker’s wife who made the best batches.

“You don’t trust me?” She teased.

“I do, always.”  
He paused, “Alright, I’ll try it then.”

He bit into it, the sweetness danced with the citrus tang in his mouth as he chewed. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the delicious taste.

Sansa smugly watched as he moaned, and took another bite, then another.

“Do you think the children will like them?”

He nodded his head and after he took the last bite,

“They’re going to love them, just as I do.”

For a time, Jon seemed to be the only person she could truly confide in. It felt so strange to keep anything from him. It was like an invisible barrier between them.

“I’ll see you again.” She said to him, head held high.

“You will.” He leaned in to her, and held her in his arms. She felt a knot rising in her throat as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.  
She squeezed their bodies together, and nuzzled against the warmth of his neck. They were inside of the carriage facing each other. So, when they came apart Sansa had found herself sitting on Jon’s lap. His knees nestled in between her thighs.

She felt her face flush an embarrassing shade, as she began to pull herself away. Jon held her in place with his hands on the small of her back.

She looked down at him, while he pulled her closer. She fought back the tears, because she knew if one fell, the rest would follow like flowing streams down her face. They were so close, she could smell the lemon cake on his breath. She couldn’t help but look down at the pout of his lips, how sweet he must taste.

“I’ll come back, I promise.” Jon whispered.

Sansa closed her eyes as he placed his hands on her cheeks and pulled her down. He gently pressed his lips to her forehead and her heart fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird.

She pulled her head away slightly to look at him one more time.

“You better.” She breathed.  
Sansa memorized every line of his handsome face, and she thought for a moment he might have been doing the same.

“Farewell, Sansa. I miss you already.”

“Farewell Jon.”

Jon opened the door to the carriage and stepped out. He hesitated to close it, giving Sansa one last look. He nodded goodbye to her, and closed the door. Brienne climbed into the carriage shortly after, and knocked two times alerting the driver that they were ready to depart.

“Podrick was upset that he couldn’t come along.” Brienne said,  
“Are you sure about this My Lady?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” Sansa told her.

She hopped on her knees and looked out of the little window on the back of the carriage. Jon watched her ride away. He stood before the gates of Winterfell, snow falling gently around him. She saw Ghost walk up to him, and he knelt down to pet him.

She would hold on to that, the feeling she got when he’d promised to return. It was the feeling of what she needs, the feeling of home, the feeling of love.  
 

_____________________________________________________________________________  
   
**Jon**

The sweetness of the lemon cake he had just eaten began to fade, along with his view of Sansa’s carriage. As if he could feel the void in Jon’s chest tearing open, Ghost padded up to him. Jon knelt down and pet his white fluffy coat. Ghost looked after the carriage and gave a little whine.

“It’s alright boy. I did ask you to watch over her for me, didn’t I?” He smiled, the great dire wolf met his gaze. His tail wagging back and forth.

“Go on, I’ll see you soon.”

With one more look to Jon, Ghost ran off after Sansa’s carriage which was almost out of sight.


	9. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Northerners see Dany for what she is, a promise is kept, and we catch up with Theon.
> 
>  
> 
> **WARNING:  
> **  
>  _Character deaths ahead_

**Daenerys**

Daenerys stood on top of the stairs, watching Jon look after Sansa’s carriage. He stood there for some time, before finally turning around and walking back through the gates. His gaze was fixed on the ground. Dany tried to go talk to him, when halfway down the stairs Jorah approached her. 

“My Queen, I have intercepted a raven. I think you should see it.” 

He handed her a scroll, Dany was a bit confused as she unrolled it and read what it said. 

“Where did you get this?” She asked him.

“I found a dead raven some distance from the castle, small creatures have trouble in these harsh conditions. They don’t always make it.” He told her.

“Find me my Master of Whispers at once and have him brought to the great hall.” Her eyes narrowed and a fire smoldered in her chest. 

 

 

 

 

 

Daenerys sat at the center of the table of the great hall. All of the Northern lords were arriving to the meeting Daenerys had called. Some of them chatted amongst themselves. 

Jon entered the hall and sat to her left side. 

“Your Grace, we’ve discussed all the battle plans for tomorrow. There’s no need for all this.” He said.

“This is about something else.” She told him, gently touching his hand.

“What is it?” Jon asked her.

“You’ll see soon enough.” She smiled.

She wanted to tell him all about her decision to have him legitimized from the moment she came up with it. Now that Sansa was away, she wouldn’t be around to speak against it. When she returned it would be done, then be offered the chance to be one of Daenerys’ advisors.

Unsullied and Dorthraki soldiers lined against the walls and stood by each door. Tyrion was the last to join the table sitting to her right side. The hall was nearly full, so Dany began.

“I have called you all here to make a few announcements.“

“First I’d like to announce that I will be legitimizing the Warden of the North, Jon Snow, as a true born Stark.” 

The hall broke into a buzzing of complaints and shouts. Jon said something to her, but it was inaudible with all the yelling. His eyes were hard as he grasped her arm.

“Enough!” Dany shouted, slamming her hands flat on to the table as she stood up from her seat. The hall quieted down.

“Bring him in.” Dany told her guards.

She walked around the table to the center of the hall as Varys was dragged into the hall by two Dorthraki men. They brought him to the center and threw him on his knees before their Queen.

“I have found proof that my Master of Whispers, has been working against me. Conspiring with other regions, behind my back. How do you answer to this charge, Lord Varys of Lys?” 

“I assure you, Your Grace, everything I have done was for the good of the realm.” His voice broke and tears started welling up in his eyes. 

So this is my betrayal, I should’ve guessed it. She thought, thinking back to the day she’d pardoned him for serving the usurper Robert Baratheon, and his son after him.

“My Lord, Do you recall the day I arrived back to Westeros? Do you recall your promise to tell me about any objections you may find in me as a ruler?” She held her head high and spoke clearly. She wanted everyone there to see what happens when you betray the Mother of Dragons.

“I do Your Grace, and I beg your forgiveness. I didn’t want to upset you my Queen...” 

A cold, hard look made Varys’ pathetic begging finally stop. 

“I made you a promise that day, my Lord.” She walked around behind him and slightly knelt down to his ear “And I intended to keep that promise.” She whispered.

Varys pushed himself off of the floor and sat on his knees, clutching his hands together.

“Your Grace. I serve the people of the realm, you knew this.”

Dany felt like a mighty dragon, the way everyone looked at her in fear. No clever words or plans. She wanted them all to see that anyone who would dare stand in her way shall be met with fire and blood.

“Lord Varys of Lys, I Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of My Name, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, sentence you to die.”

The hall was completely silent, she looked at the Lords who’d glare at her in the courtyard. They each cowered away from her violet gaze. The small men reminded her of Lady Olenna’s words. Sheep, every one of them. 

“Your Grace, if I may offer you my council. The Wall, is always in need of men. Might I suggest you let Lord Varys take the black?” Tyrion suggested.

“This man has conspired against me, I’ve discovered one of his ravens on its way to the Stormlands. He’s urged them to support another ruler, that would claim the iron throne after the war is won. Treasonous men must be dealt with in one way, and one way alone. I have sentenced him, and now invite you all to witness the execution in the clearing outside of the castle walls.” 

“My Queen, please. We should give Lord Varys a proper trial, before be heading him. There must be more-“ Jon began.

“No body said anything about beheading him.” Dany interrupted. “My decision is final.”

“Please My Lord, please tell them. You can stop this.” Varys pleaded to Jon. 

“I don’t know how you did things in Essos, but here in Westeros we don’t execute our people by burning them alive. That’s madness!” Arya told her, eyes narrowed in anger.

“I am the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, I shall do as I please.” Dany told her,

“Daenerys! Please listen, you can’t burn him-“ Jon pleaded, but Dany would not hear another word. 

She walked passed the sobbing Varys, and gave the signal to her guards. They walked up to Varys and forced him to his feet. She made her way across the hall, paying no mind to the accusing whispers and glares surrounding her. 

“Jon please, tell her!! Tell them!!” Varys begged, desperately fighting to get out of the guards grasps,  
“Tell them who you are!! Tell them you’re Rhaegar’s son!”

As he spoke the words, Daenerys stopped in her tracks. A wave of shock and silence washed across the hall. 

“What did you say?” Dany demanded.

“It’s true his mother was Lyanna Stark, and his father was Rhaegar Targaryen. Eddard raised his sister’s bastard son, as his own.” Varys announced. 

“Lies! Do you think these lies will save you? Nothing will save you.” Dany shouted, glaring at the soft bald man through narrowed eyes.

She looked at Jon, he wouldn’t even meet her gaze. He focused on his hands folded in front of him on the table. 

“Jon? Tell me this isn’t true.” He remained silent and wide eyed,  
“Tell me!” Dany shouted at him.

“It’s true!” 

Someone shouted from the very back of the hall. A couple emerged from the crowd, it was Jon’s friends. Sam and Gilly, their arms entwined as they walked passed Dany and addressed Jon.

“Jon, you can stop this. It doesn’t have to be this way.” Sam told him.

The hall buzzed with murmurs as the Lords spoke amongst themselves.

The room was spinning, Dany’s belly turned, and a knot rose in her throat.

“Jon!!!” She commanded.

“It’s true.” He told them, in almost a whisper. The room buzzed again, this time louder. 

“Are you telling us that you are a Targaryen bastard, That you have been all this time?” Lord Glover asked Jon. 

“He’s no bastard. I‘ve seen proof that Rhaegar annulled his marriage to his wife before marrying Lyanna Stark.” Gilly said, addressing everyone in the hall. 

“He’s been working with the Dragon Queen all this time!!” One of the lords accused.

“Lyanna was kidnapped and raped by Rhaegar, everyone knows that!!” Another shouted.

“The Mad King burned people alive!!Targaryens can not be trusted!!” Someone else yelled out. 

“We named you our King, we trusted in you!” Lyanna Mormont glared at Jon from across the hall.  
“And you lied to us.”

“My Lady, please-“ Jon started.

“Lord Eddard Stark saved your life and raised you as his own. And you dishonor him by trying to take House Starks’ ancestral home for yourself, knowing you are no true Stark. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Yohn Royce interrupted.

“Why don’t we all take a few moments to relax and give our Queen some time-“ Tyrion began, before being cut off by a burly Northern Lord. The man looked familiar, he was grotesquely fat and looked to be an older man.

“She’s not my Queen! We have a Queen! Lady Sansa is the daughter of Winterfell! She should have been named Queen in the North! A true Stark, not this pretender!” He pointed at Jon, 

“He went South and handed over his kingdom to his foreign whore!”

Jorah stood up immediately, Dany gave him the signal to seize the man. She cleared her throat, and composed herself. Jorah and two other guards grabbed the man. 

“What is your name my Lord?” Dany asked the man, as he struggled against the guards. Another one of her guards joined in restraining him.

“I am Wyman Manderly of White Harbor. I regret taking part in your arrival. I should never have let this bastard bring you onto our Northern shores. We know no Queen but the Queen in the North, whose name is Stark!” The fat man glared at her, his face flushed a dark red color and sweat beaded on his forehead.

“You’ll also come to regret speaking to me that way.” Dany told him. 

Another fat man tried to help Wyman, this one was bald and had a long flopping mustache. It took three of Dany’s guards to hold him back. He was begging, and pleading for his fathers life. 

“Take these men to the clearing.” Dany told her guards. They forced the men out of he hall, and Dany followed. 

She ignored Tyrion and Jon as they yelled out her name. She knew they’d try to stop her, so she quickened her pace. 

Drogon was flying over head, approaching the clearing. The guards had already gotten the men into place for the execution. Dany looked around at the gathering crowd, it was a mix of her people and the unhappy Northerners. Drogon landed behind the two men and let out a blood-curdling screech. Dany stood beside him and pet him while she spoke.

“You are about to witness what happens to anyone who dares cross the Mother of Dragons. My enemies will be met with fire and blood!” 

Jon and Tyrion fought their way to the front of the crowd. 

“Daenerys, you’re better than this. I know you are, please let me help you find another way. Lord Wyman was only upset, men say things they don’t mean when they’re upset. House Manderly are very loyal to House Stark.” Jon pleaded to her.

“That means nothing to me. He must pay the price for his treasonous words.” She told him.

“Your Grace, You named me your hand so that I could help you check your impulses. Give it a day or so, we can hold them in the dungeons.” Tyrion’s eyes gleamed with hope, before he squeezing them tightly shut in fear as Drogon let out another screech.

“If you’ve anything that you’d like to say, My Lords, now is the time.” Dany told the men, still being forced into place by her guards. 

“The North Remembers! We remember the Stark name. And you Targaryen scum will never have it.” Wyman shouted, before he spat in Dany’s direction.

“I have failed you all. We’ve grown so used to horror and injustice, we assume there’s no other way. Jon Snow is the last dragon, not Daenerys. My only regret, is not being able to serve you.” He said to Jon. 

Varys words struck Daenerys like a venomous snake. She nodded to her guards to get out of the way. 

“Dracarys!” Dany commanded to Drogon. Her face perfectly composed, she wanted them all to see her strength.

Drogon drew in a deep rumbling breath, and unleashed his fiery fury onto the men. Their screams echoed through the woods, and the fire melted the snow beneath them. Daenerys had expected the fat man would take longer to die, but their screams died out at around the same time. The screaming was always awful, but it never lasted past the execution. It was Wyman’s son who was left screaming now. Dany couldn’t bear the sight of the bald fat man on his knees being held back by her guards as he desperately clawed into the ground, trying to reach his father. His sobs echoed in her ears, she hardened her face against the pity she felt for him.

This was necessary. She told herself. I can not look back.

When Drogon’s breath of fire stopped, all that remained of the two men was the terrible smell of charred skin and death. No one spoke a single word once it was over, it was almost completely silent, save for the sobbing of the fat man. 

Dany wanted more than anything to climb on top of Drogon in that moment, the dragon screeched at the charred piece of land where her enemies once stood. He looked at Dany and let her pet him again.

She thanked him and sent him off to fly with his brother, high up above them, above all of the small men and their small problems. Dany made her way across the clearing as she passed Jon she briefly looked at him.

“I invite you to dine my chambers tonight.” Dany told him.

He wouldn’t meet her gaze, and his voice was cold. 

“Is that an invitation, or a command?” 

She raised her brow at him and continued walking back to the castle. Smiling with pride one last time at the sight of her children flying freely in the sky up above. 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Theon**

The sun had begun to set in Kings Landing, Theon sat at a table in a tavern with a few of his men. They’d just finished scouting the guards of the Red Keep. They’d been watching the men standing guard, learning the way everything worked on the outside. This particular tavern provided a perfect view of Aegon‘s High Hill. It wasn’t right in front of the Red Keep, more off to the north side of the castle which is why he loved this tavern. It was a beautiful view of the castle, something he’d only dreamt of. Light snow had fallen the night before and the remnants of it glistened against the setting sun. Brilliant rose and purple colors played behind the misty winter clouds that drifted over the city. 

“Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” A woman’s voice brought Theon out of his thoughts.

He turned to look at her, it was a tavern maid. He recognized her from the last couple of days. He first took notice of her when he’d heard her carefree laughter carry over a table away from his own, the first night they’d arrived. Her hair was bright red, almost blonde but not quite, with deep earthy auburn undertones. A part of him had hoped it might be Ros she’d turn and he’d see her deep blue eyes again. But when she turned around, to Theon’s disappointment it was not her. He’d stared too long now, and she made eye contact with him while he let out a sigh. He blinked and turned back to hear the filthy story one of his men was telling. He was in part relived that it wasn’t her, how would she react to his mutilation? However, another part would have loved nothing more than to hold her in his arms one more time.

“Aye, the most beautiful.” Theon answered with a weak smile.

“More ale, M’Lord?” She asked.

“I’m no Lord. Call me Theon.” 

She smiled, Theon noticed she had a small gap between her two front teeth. Her face was thin and small, she had pretty little features. A small dainty nose, high cheekbones, long shaped eyebrows, and wide chestnut eyes. The sun set created a soft rose colored gleam through the misty sky. When it caught, her hair was instantly ignited. Her chestnut eyes looked almost like honey against the flame of her long loose curls.

“Jenny Waters, at your service.” She took his cup and went off.

“We’ve been here for weeks, now that the ships are gone there’s no reason we shouldn’t make our move.” Bomar, the strongest of his men, suggested.

When they’d first arrived from Dragonstone, Theon hid his ship on an island in the Blackwater Bay. They’d hidden the ship in some trees, out of sight. It took three trips to ferry all of his men to the shores of Kings Landing in a row boat. They’d been staying at an Inn, near Flea Bottom. They’ve been keeping quiet about their intentions, as there was much planning that still needed to be done. When they started scouting the castle, they found Euron’s fleet was busy ferrying scorpions. For an entire week after their arrival, Theon saw activity on the Blackwater bay, ships coming and going. Whatever the Queen was preparing for, it was going to be huge. 

“Soon, don’t you want to wait for all the new weapons I’ve ordered us?” Theon asked.

“I pay the iron price for my weapons, boy.” Bomar told Theon.

With a sigh Theon took Bomar by the shoulder and squeezed real tight as he pulled him closer.

“How will you steal anything off a dead man, when you don’t even have a proper weapon to kill him with?” Theon asked,

“We need to keep a low profile for just a bit longer, Bomar. Take this chance you’ve been given to enjoy the great city of King’s Landing.” Theon told him, pushing Bomar’s cup over to him.

“For Queen Yara!” He agreed, grabbing his cup and drinking deeply from it. He stood up and started talking to a big woman with freckles and dark blonde hair.

Theon saw the serving maid Jenny on her way back to him with a cup full of ale. She smiled when he met her gaze, as she approached him. 

A tough grizzly old man had taken notice of her sweet smile, and as Jenny passed him, he gave her a hard smack on her bottom. His hand squeezed around her cheeks and he shouted,

“I’ve got a spare penny, Jenny. How about you put those pretty pink lips around my cock?” He boomed a toothless laugh, and pulled her on to his lap. He tried planting a kiss on her lips, but when she dodged him, it made him furious. He grabbed her breasts and tried to pull them out of her dress.

“Let go of me!” Jenny yelled.

She struggled, spilling ale all over herself. Theon stood up immediately and walked over to the huge man and grabbed his wrist, putting his good hand on the hilt of his dagger.

“Let her go!” Theon warned.

“Or what? You gonna punch me with your fingerless fist?” He and the few men sitting at his table all laughed a terrible thunderous laughter. 

Theon slammed the man’s hand flat on to the table, freeing Jenny from his grasp. She threw herself into the chair beside him, and composed herself. 

“You’re a dead man!” The grizzly man growled, reaching for his sword.

Jenny stood up and darted to the other side of the tavern. 

While the man was distracted by Jenny’s retreat, Theon slammed the man’s fat hand back down on to the table in front of him, and unsheathed his dagger, swiftly plunging it into the fat mans hand. 

“You’re gonna pay for that.” A younger leaner looking, bearded man said to Theon. 

The fat man squealed in pain, as Theon pulled out his dagger. The bearded man pulled back his fist, when Theon set his dagger in a protective stance. 

“She didn’t want to be touched, he wasn’t going to stop. I’ve stopped him, now there doesn’t have to be any more trouble.” Theon said to the men sitting at the table. 

The bearded man slowly lowered his fist. Theon cleaned his dagger and quickly put it back in its scabbard. The fat man continued to squeal and in a moment, Theon saw the bearded man reach for his hilt. 

Theon threw all of his weight into his swing, striking the bearded man right on the jaw. He flew back, and everything blurred as Theon’s men jumped into the fight. They punched and kicked the fat man’s friends. Theon pummeled the bearded man into the ground with his fists.

Someone picked Theon up by his arms, and pulled him off the bearded man. It was an older man with dark hair. He had a group of men separating the iron born and the fat man’s companions. 

“Not him, he was only helping me.” Jenny told the man beside her, he must be the owner of the establishment.

The other men were escorted out of the tavern, Theon’s men were helped up, and released.

“So much for keeping a low profile!” Bomar shouted, and all the iron born joined him in laughter. 

“It’s been ages since I’ve had a good fight, now I’m in the mood for a good fuck! What do you say?” He asked the blonde woman with the freckles. She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. The iron born men cheered as some of them paired off with women of their own. 

Theon laughed, glad to have his men there to stand with him. They respected him now, and that meant more to Theon than any crown or throne ever would. He drank from his cup gulping his way half way through.

“I’m sorry about that- Theon. I brought you that ale, apologies for the disturbance.” Jenny spoke softly. 

“No, don’t be sorry. He’s the one who should be sorry.” Theon told her, wiping the blood on his knuckles off against his tunic.

“Please let me,” she pulled a damp cloth out of her apron and started dabbing against his wounds. “You’re very brave, Theon. Like a hero from the songs.” 

“That’s very kind of you to say.” Theon drank down the rest his ale, and dug into his pocket. 

“Thank you for the ale.” Theon said while handing Jenny a fist full of gold dragons. 

“Thank you M’Lord-“ she started, but Theon stood up and quickly walked away. He made his way through the tavern, and out into the streets. He walked back to the Inn, still dripping blood from his fist.

I had to get out of there. She was- 

He sighed deeply. 

She was perfect, and I’m- 

He looked down at his hands trembling, covered in blood, fingers missing and scarred. 

I’m a monster. 

He slumped over himself, still walking down the cobblestone street, drops of blood trailing behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t wait for this Dany/Varys scene in the show. I’m sure it’ll be much better lol if it even happens that is, thank you for reading!!


	10. Marching Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama gets settled and it’s time to go to war

**Jon**

After the execution Jon made his way back to the castle, Arya caught up, matching his pace. 

“You could’ve told me you were a secret Targaryen prince, Jon.” She breathed, struggling to keep up with him. 

“Not now.” 

He was still reeling from everything that had just happened to Varys and Wyman Manderly. The weight of it all setting in slowly. He just wanted to go to his chambers and lock himself away from the hateful glares the Lords were giving him.  
How did everything get so messed up?

“So when is the right time then?” She asked, falling behind.

Jon kept his focus on the ground, ignoring the whispers. It seemed they were all around him. Almost like an echo, only their voices weren’t loud enough to echo. He stopped walking at the sight of Arya’s boots jumping in front of his path.

“Listen to me, Sansa isn’t here. Bran is unconscious, and you have just confirmed that you are a Targaryen! Please, tell me when is a good time for this?” 

He lifted his gaze, her eyes were glazed over with tears. He sighed and nodded his head.

“Alright, follow me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

In his chambers, Jon and Arya sat in some chairs in front of the fire place. The flames were dying, the room was dark and chilly, but there was no time to bother with tending to it. 

“When did you find out the truth?” Arya asked. 

“Bran and Sam told me shortly after I arrived from Dragonstone.” He answered.

“You should have told us. I’m not angry that you didn’t. Still, you should’ve told us.”

“You’re not angry?” He asked, relieved to hear it.

“No, sometimes we have to keep things from the ones that we love. I know I’ve done it.” She said.

“I had a plan. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. They told me about my parents, and everything was ruined.” He could feel the tears stream down his face, though he never felt them forming. 

“You had a plan?” She asked.

“I was going to tell you and Sansa, but I couldn’t because it was ruined.” He sighed, and took his face in his hands.

“I was a prisoner on Dragonstone. I noticed quickly that Daenerys was a bit self centered.” 

“A bit?” Arya laughed

“I saw that she responded well when being treated a certain way, so I did and I’d noticed she was beginning to listen to me and seek my counsel. I thought she was kind enough. She didn’t want to use her dragons to hurt people, and I thought if she saved the North, they’d see her as a hero.” He paused, “When we went to capture a white walker, we had discovered that killing one of the Night King’s generals, killed the others that they’ve turned. I saw a clear path to the Night King, if I could’ve ended it all right there without Daenerys’ help... I wouldn’t have to give up our home.” 

Jon stood up and paced around the room.

“As I tried to fight my way to him, he killed one of Daenerys’ dragons. I knew what he could do with a dragon, we saw what he did with a bear.”

Arya’s eyebrows shot up, as she interrupted, 

“The Hound has told me the story, is that when she came to save you?”

“She tried, but I didn’t take her help. I made sure she had what she wanted, and told them to go on without me. After I fell into a lake that had frozen over, I sunk deep down below the ice and I knew I’d lost again. I fought and I lost just like I’d lost at Castle Black, and the Battle of the Bastards. I managed to make it back up to the surface and thats when Uncle Benjen saved me.” 

Jon and Bran had told Arya and Sansa about their uncle, and his fate beyond the wall. She had the same wistful look now, that she did then.

“After that happened I knew we needed Daenerys’ help. I’d gotten her everything she’d wanted. I showed her ancient proof that the White Walkers are real, I even captured one for her, I nearly died- Thoros died- Uncle Benjen died... All for her truce. And even after her dragon was speared out of the sky, even after seeing the army of the dead for herself. She had me put on a boat and sailed me off to King’s Landing.” He shook his head, and felt another tear fall down his cheek. 

“I saw how much weight her truce had on her decision to either help me or fight Cersei. I knew Cersei wouldn’t agree, Sansa warned me about trusting her. So I gave her the last thing she wanted, I bent the knee. The Night King had a dragon, and I thought if he found a way to use it, I’d have to make sure that Daenerys would be there to fight with us. We don’t stand a chance without her... Not that any of it matters anymore. I have no influence in the North, I have nothing to offer now. There’s nothing stopping her from climbing on her dragon and flying off, leaving us all here be destroyed by the army of the dead.” His voice remained steady, but his face gleamed with streams of tears.

“But you said it fell in the frozen lake, maybe it sunk all the way down to the bottom.” Arya said, grey eyes filled with worry.

“Bran saw it when the wall fell.” He paused “It was all for nothing. Just a waste of time, I should’ve never went South. I should’ve listened to Sansa.” He paced back, and forth. His shoulders felt heavy and his head started to ache. 

“It wasn’t all for nothing, you did the best you could. And, you can still get Daenerys to stay and help.” Arya told him, leaning against the mantle of the fireplace.

“What do you mean?” He asked her, his eyebrows knitted together.

“It’s like Sansa told me before she left, ‘Everyone is your enemy, everyone is your friend’... Focusing on one threat alone, may blind you from others.” Arya said over her shoulder as she knelt down by the dim fire, adding wood into the hearth.

Jon’s a claim to the Iron Throne, threatened Dany. He knew what she wanted, and if it got her to march to war with them in the morning, he would gladly do it.

“My claim.” Jon said through a growing smile.

“Daenerys and her dragons are a huge threat to the realm, and so is the army of the dead. Tell her that you’ll join the Nights Watch once the war is won, renouncing your claim so that she is unopposed. The North will be free to choose Sansa as their Queen. She’ll be able to help you stay here, where you belong. And anything can happen during this war, maybe things will be different by the time this whole nightmare ends.” 

“Shes already done so much for me, how much more can I ask.” Jon looked at the armor in the corner of his room. Remembering her exquisite smile when she’d told him what she thought of him. The way breathing became the most difficult thing to do when he gazed into those gorgeous eyes.

“Do you think you can handle our banner men? You’re the only- conscious- Stark in Winterfell. Hear them. Try to get them to stay and fight, they’ll listen to you.“ Jon pulled a chair closer to the growing fire and sat down. Arya’s eyes were wide and she was biting down on her lip. He knew she didn’t want to, but they wouldn’t listen to him anymore. He smiled at his brave little sister, 

“Remember you’re a true born Stark. They respect you. You have to help them, they don’t know why I’ve done the things I’ve done, and they have every right to be upset. They haven’t seen the storm that’s coming for us.”

Arya nodded her head.

“I’ll be in Sansa’s solar.” She walked over to Jon and dried one of the streams that the tears had left behind on his cheek.

“You know that you’ll always be my big brother, right? Even if you are my cousin...” she looked down at the tears on her finger tips,  
“Am I still your little sister?”

Jon stood up and looked her in the eyes, 

“Always.” 

He lifted her up into his arms and they squeezed tightly in an embrace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jon stood at Dany’s door, hand raised ready to knock.

Why did it always have to be this way with her? She was like a cliff, one wrong move, and you’d slip and fall straight to your death.

He knocked, and she opened the door to let him in. Stew, bread and wine were set up on the table where he sat. Though Jon liked the smell, he would not be eating much.

“How long have you known?” Was Daenerys’ first question.

“Not long.” He answered.

“When we...” she started 

“No.” He told her.

They sat in silence, Dany reached for her wine and drank deeply. 

“So Jon Targaryen.”

“They tell me I’m actually Aegon, but I prefer Jon.”

“Aegon the Conqueror is your namesake, a legendary hero. He conquered this land and built the iron throne for his legacy... For us. We are the last of our House.” She set down her wine and stood up.

“Everything was stolen from our family. Do you know that if things had been different, we might have been married.” She looked down at him under her lashes.

“We still could be.” She told him, running her hand over his own.

“I don’t think I can do that.” He told her, pulling his hand back to his side.

“Our family married within our blood line for generations. It’s what makes us different from everybody else. You and I were meant to be together, I’ve been dreaming of you for so long. We both want to help people, and we’ve both been betrayed by those we tried to help. Now that we have found each other we can conquer our enemies. Remember our words. Fire and Blood. That is how we take back what is ours. What these little North men think of us, means nothing to me.”

Jon stood up and slowly paced to the fireplace, “It’s not about what they think of me, it’s more about what I think of myself. I could never leave the North for dead. Not for any throne. Not for any crown. This is my home, and these are my people.” He told her

“I came here to save them. If they want my help, they’ll bend the knee. Today that man called you a pretender, soon they’ll try to exile you. They’ve already killed you once, why would you want to protect those who would harm you?”

“Because this is my home.” He told her. “I’m not Ned Stark’s son, I have no way to give you what we originally agreed upon. I can’t promise you this kingdom. However, There is something else that I do have, something you want.” 

“And what is that?” Dany asked flatly.

“I swear to renounce my claim to the iron throne, after you’ve helped us defeat the Night King... Also, there will be no more burning people alive while you remain in the North.” 

Dany laughed, “You presume to make demands of me? Did you forget that I have two large dragons flying outside of these walls? My children can bring the North to their knees. They can bring all of Westeros to their knees. What could you give me that my dragons can’t?” She asked. 

Jon could see she was fuming, he could see that she wanted to hide it but still her words were sharp. 

“You try to do what’s right, I’ve seen it. Your dragons can bring Westeros to their knees, it’s true. You could burn everyone who refuses to bow, destroy their cities. Just like Aegon the Conqueror did. But if you do the right thing and help me defeat the Night King, I will take the black once again, where I will be no threat to your throne. Your subjects will respect you much more if you can conquer without blood shed.” Thinking about returning to Castle Black made Jon’s belly knot up. Maybe this is why the Lord of Light brought me back, to serve the Nights Watch for the rest of my days.

“You would do that?” She asked.

“If you’ll help us, I’ll do it.” 

She kept quiet for a while, her eyes were soft and tinged with sadness.

“My methods of execution remain, I am the Mother of Dragons. Nobody can take that away from me. Not even you.” 

“Daenerys, please.” He begged her with his gaze, for a moment it seemed he might’ve gotten through to her.

“If you want me to stay and fight, this is the only way. It’s not too late to march south on Cersei. I don’t believe that those were all of her men on Goldroad...”

She would leave us all here to die, Jon thought. He was glad that she didn’t know the truth about Cersei’s army, there would be no stopping her then.

Dany drank deeply, to avoid meeting his gaze. Jon sighed, as he looked into the fire place. 

They were to march North in the morning. It seemed unlikely that Dany would find a reason to burn anyone over night. This is everything Jon had been working for since he left for Dragonstone, it was all close enough for him to grasp, all he had to do was agree. 

After the war is won the North won’t have to fight in her war, they are no longer a part of the deal. He thought. 

“I can see how hard this is for you, I want to offer you one last chance to be who you were meant to be.” She slowly walked up to him and her voice became low, 

“This is your destiny, take your rightful place by my side.” She whispered, gently caressing his shoulder, 

“We can rule together, the way our ancestors did before us.” She walked around him, lightly trailing her hand across the back of his neck, 

“You would be the most powerful man in all of the Seven Kingdoms.” She stopped walking and trailed her touch down the side of his arm, 

“I’ve seen the scar on your chest. Where your people, plunged a dagger into your heart. I know you are no ordinary man.” She purred, her voice like silk.

“I don’t mind being ordinary. I’ll go to the Wall and you won’t have to worry about me anymore.” 

Her face fell, and a fire lit in her eyes. She walked to the door and grasped the handle. 

“Then I’ll see you in the morning.” She said coldly, as twisted the handle and opened the door.

“Thank you.” He told her, before walking out of her chambers. 

As soon as he stepped into the hallway, the door slammed shut behind him. He released a breath, he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. 

 

____________________________________________________________________________ 

 

**Arya**

“I want to thank you all for coming. The Lady of Winterfell should be returning soon, she is looking after our people in Winter Town.” She told the Lords standing around the desk, in Sansa’s Solar.

“Lady Arya, when we pledged our forces to Jon Snow’s cause, we thought he was your father’s bastard son. Now that we know he is no son of Ned Stark, we can not fight for him. We can’t fight for a man we do not trust.” Lord Glover told her.

“When the Knights of the Vale rode North, we did it for Sansa Stark. After Petyr Baelish was executed for his treason, we pledged our forces to House Stark. With your leave, my Lady we would like to secure Winterfell so we can hold it against the army of the dead.” Lord Royce said.

“My Lord, I understand you are upset at Jon. You-“ Arya started.

“My father was burned alive because of him! You cant ask me to forgive the man who stood by and let his Queen kill him with no trial. My father did have a loose tongue, I know it. But, House Manderly has always been loyal to House Stark. My father had always defended the Starks from anyone who spoke against it. He didn’t deserve to die like that!” Wylis Manderly said, his deep booming voice broke and the man’s face was flushed with red from the crying.

“You’re right Lord Wylis, and I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it from happening. I know what it’s like to lose a father. He didn’t deserve to-“ Arya began.

“We should exile the Targaryens! They’ll bring us nothing but fire and blood. They should take their savages and their dragons and go back to Essos!” Lady Lyessa, of House Flint interrupted.

“Kill the Dragon Queen!” Someone yelled from the back of the group.

“Justice for the Manderlys!” An older man standing beside Lord Wylis shouted.

Arya grew frustrated as the room buzzed with their voices. They weren’t listening to her, she couldn’t even hear herself think. When it grew louder, Arya stood up. 

“My Lords!!” She shouted, her voice echoed off the rafters on the ceiling.

“Jon may not be my half brother, but he is a Stark. My Aunt Lyanna was the Daughter of Winterfell, my father loved her. What he did for her, for his sister. He did out of love. He doesn’t have the name, but he does have Stark blood flowing through his veins.” Arya’s voice carried out through the room, and she could see that they were finally listening to her.

“I’m not asking you to forgive him, or to forget that the Dragon Queen has wrongfully murdered one of our own noble men. As satisfying as cutting off her head would be, we need her alive. If we don’t march to war tomorrow morning with everyone we’ve rallied together, we will not survive this war. Our Lady has given you orders. When you return from the war you can declare her Queen if that’s what you want. But if we don’t fight, with Jon and Daenerys, it won’t matter what you want. We’ll all be dead, and so will everything and everyone you’ve ever known.” 

The room was quiet, she’d never been good at politics, but Arya was a Northerner, and in the North they were loyal, and stern. 

“You have my men. My Lady if you’ll allow me, I’d like to go back to White Harbor to be with my family. Should House Stark need anything that we can provide, it is always an honor.” Wylis said.

Arya smiled and nodded her head at him.

“We shall honor Lady Sansa’s orders to march to battle in the morning. For the North!!” Lyanna Mormont shouted. 

“For the North!” They all shouted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’ll be waiting in this same spot when you return, Sansa and Bran too.” Arya told Jon.

She smiled as they embraced at the foot of the stairs. She tightly squeezed her arms around him. 

“If I don’t make it back, take Sansa and Bran, and go as far South as you can. Tell them I love them.”

“I will. See you when you get back.” She let him go and gave him a reassuring smile. He climbed on his horse and slowly rode out of the castle gates.

“Everything got real fucked up real fast after your sister left, didn’t it?” Arya recognized The Hounds voice from behind her.

“It sure did.” She told him.

“I’ll see you when we’ve killed the Night cunt, then” he nodded to her and started towards his horse.

“Sandor,” She called out. He stopped walking and turned back to look at her.

“Don’t die.” She said.

He nodded turning back to his horse and lead it through the gates.

Arya spotted Gendry, he standing just outside of the gates holding the reins to his horse in one hand. She watched as he spoke to Ser Davos for quite some time. They climbed on their horses and slowly rode out of the castle together.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

A lump rose in Arya’s throat as he faded away into the heavy falling snow. She took a deep breath and turned for the stairs. 

The Dorthraki and Unsullied had already begun marching down the kings road. The Northern banners followed, along with the free folk, Daenerys had been one of the first to ride out on a pale white mare.

Long after they had all begun to make their way down the road, Arya noticed the wind was colder that morning. Her breath didn’t turn to mist in the breeze as it usually did, this morning was thicker. 

She felt a tear roll down her cheek, it turned into a cold stinging drop. Halfway up the stairs in the courtyard, Arya heard the castle gates close. She wiped off the stream of tears, and looked back down at the courtyard. 

With a gasp Arya watched as Gendry halted his horse to a stop, he dismounted and led the horse to the stables.

He’s staying. Arya thought to herself. She fought back a smile when his deep blue eyes met hers from across the courtyard.


	11. The Calm Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran wakes up, Arya worrys for her bro, and Sansa talks about her next move.

**Bran**

_It was a dark night, the wind was freezing cold. Bran found himself standing on the battlements of Winterfell. He looked out into the vast frozen land, the snow was falling heavily and layering into blankets of ice._

_Far off into the distance, he noticed a group of torches swaying in the wind. Bran closed his eyes and focused on getting a closer look._

_When he opened his eyes again, he found himself surrounded by soldiers. They wore black and gold armor, and held a banner for House Lannister and another for the Golden Company. It’s was no where near twenty thousand men, more like three._

_Bran closed his eyes and focused on the outcome of the battle that was to come. He opened his eyes and looked around. He saw the gates of Winterfell manned by Tully men, then the chanting begun and the Golden Company rammed against the gates to the pace of the chanting. As the pace of the chanting and the ramming picked up, the men holding the gate fell from their posts. Soon the ram broke through the gates to the courtyard of Winterfell and they started flowing in through the breech._

_Bran pulled back into the vision of the Golden Company approaching Winterfell. He walked along with the crowd and listened, ”What did the Queen say the girl looked like again?” One of the men at the head of the crowd asked._

_“Long red hair and blue eyes.” Another man answered._

_Cersei sent these men to Winterfell to take Sansa. Just as she had expected, and they were to arrive soon._

_Thoughts of Sansa led Bran to a new location in the blink of an eye. After looking around, he quickly recognized Winter Town. He looked inside of a window and spotted Sansa in a room full of women, Ghost napping by her side. They were sitting in a circle gossiping and sewing. He let out a sigh of relief that his sister was safe._

_Then he pulled back, and all at once he was in Winterfell again..._

Bran’s eyes flung open, he sat up and met a startled Maester Wolkan’s gaze. He was in the Maesters turret, he looked over to the desk and saw Sam was there as well, a book in his hand.

Bran felt short of breath and panic rising in his chest, but he found that he was even more numb than he had been before. He wanted to cry and shout in frustration of his failure, but he couldn’t.

“How long was it this time?” Bran asked.

“Nearly three days, My Lord.” Wolkan answered, his voice strained.

“Maester Wolkan, Did you and Sam ever finish the alterations on the saddle? We’re going to be needing it soon.” 

“Yes My Lord, we completed it. Shall I bring it to you?” The Maester asked.

“Not yet, but thank you.”

“I’ll go tell Lady Arya you’re awake.” Sam stood up, rushing out of the door.

“Maester Wolkan, do we have inventory of the food stores?” Bran asked him.

“My Lord, everything was arranged by Lady Sansa before she left. She will return in the morning I belie-“ he began.

“She won’t, not for a while.” Bran said flatly.

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

**Arya**

The sun had begun to set, behind the castle walls. Arya and Podrick were training with the children. Podrick had been teaching the archers, Arya had taught them sword fighting techniques. The children seemed tired, they sat in groups all around the courtyard resting. She walked over to put the arrows she’d just picked up, back in their place.

“I saw you out there, teaching the children- you’re very good.” Arya recognized Gendrys’ deep voice.

She walked around the shelfs and found him leaning up against a wall.

“Good to hear your eyes work.” She teased. 

A group of young girls returned their practice swords to the storage shelf, once they’d left Gendry pushed himself off of the wall and picked up his hammer from the corner of the storage room.

“I want to show you something, I didn’t want to make an entirely new one. So I found a way to cover the edges of the whole thing with dragon glass.” 

Arya took the hammer in both her hands. When she tried to lift it, her hands slightly shook from the weight. Gendry stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He placed his hands over hers, and helped her lift. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest, as she tried to focus.

“Will you help me swing it?” She asked.

He slowly swung the hammer through the space in front of them a few times. His muscles tightened around her arms, making it very hard to focus on anything else. 

“What do you think?” He took the hammer in his hand and stepped away from Arya.

“It’s beautiful.” She smiled.

“Thank you m’lady.” He swung it back and forth a few more times, when Arya heard her name being called from the top of the staircase across the courtyard.

She and Gendry both ran to the foot of the stairs, “My Lady!! It’s your brother, Bran. He’s awake!! Come quick!” Sam yelled to her, pausing at the top of the stairs.

Gendry dropped his hammer to the ground to run up the stairs with her, and together they rushed after Sam into the Maesters turret.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Bran?!” Arya shouted as she burst in through the door. 

He was propped up in bed, a cup of water in his hand. As soon as he looked at her, his eyes lit up. The rest of his face however, was completely still.

“Arya, we need to take the food stores and move them, we need to evacuate Winterfell at once. I saw The Golden Company, they’re coming.” His words were urgent but his voice was so monotonous. Even more so than usual, Arya worried for him. 

“How much time do we have?” Sam sat at the desk pressing his palm to his temple.

“The snow was falling hard, and it was in the darkest time of night.” Bran said as he set his cup of water on the stand beside him, “That’s all I know.”

“How many men?” Gendry asked.

“More than we have, probably a thousand more.” 

Arya sat at the foot of his bed, “Can we win?” She asked.

“No, I saw it, we can’t hold them off.” Bran told her.

Arya sighed, “Then we’ll send the Tully men to Winter Town, they’ll deliver the stores, escort our guest to the town, and hold it against attacks.”

“Where are you going to go My Lady?” Sam asked.

“Greywater Watch.” Arya told him, “You, Gilly, Little Sam, Gendry, and Maester Wolkan can come with us.”

Bran nodded his head, “I need to see more, I need to get to the Heart tree before we go.”

Arya jumped to her feet, “I’m sorry Bran, but I can not allow that.” 

He looked up at her, his face showing the smallest hint of confusion. 

“I promised Sansa I wouldn’t let you until you got better.” She explained.

“I am better.” He protested.

“Bran you were unconscious for days! Seven Hells!! We only just got you back.” 

Her brother’s well being was far more important than knowing whatever lied ahead or behind them. 

“You can’t be serious.” He said flatly.

She put one hand on top of Brans shoulder and bent down to look him in the eyes. 

“You are my little brother, I care about you and I love you with all my heart. And that is why I am serious. There’s no time for arguing. We don’t have time for anything, we could be attacked tonight. I need your help to prepare for this, Bran.” 

“Arya-“ he started,

“I don’t want to lose you! We’ve lost enough. Do you know how worried we were when you started convulsing??!!” Arya interrupted, “You can’t keep going on as if nothing’s wrong, please let me help you.” She pleaded, hoping that she might get through to him.

“Let us help you” Sam said as he stood up from the chair by the door.

Arya smiled at Sam, she turned back to Bran, “Tell us everything you know about these attacks.”

Bran started from the very beginning, when he was training with the Three Eyed Raven. He told them all about the lost memories and how it was something he couldn’t figure out how to stop. He told them of the terrifying shadow that tormented him.

“They called it a blind spot. Back then it didn’t happen too often, now it happens more and I...” he sighed, “I lose myself in it.” 

“Lose yourself?”

“I lose memories and- just- parts of me, that make me who I am- no, who I was. It’s like I’m locked inside myself, a prisoner in my own body.”

“We’re going to find a way to stop this. I promise you.” Arya looked at Maester Wolkan and Sam, who were already shuffling though the book shelfs. Gendry stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the floor. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

**Sansa**

After all of the women had said goodbye to Sansa, she put down her needle work and knelt down beside Ghost who slept by her side. She rubbed her fingers through his coat and scratched the back of his fluffy little ears. He rolled on his back and opened his large intelligent eyes to look up at her. After a few more ear rubs he quickly drifted back to sleep. Sansa stood up and smiled at Brienne, who Sansa had been teaching to sew.

“You really are a fast learner, you should be proud of yourself.” Sansa told her.

“This is more difficult than fighting a bloody bear!!” Brienne shouted, setting her needle work down in frustration. 

“You fought a bear?” Sansa asked, incredulously.

After a moment of skulking, Brienne met Sansa’s gaze. Slowly they broke into smiles, that grew into laughter.

“My Lady, you’ve been very quiet, We leave for Winterfell in the morning. Are you excited to return?” Brienne asked her.

Sansa shook her head and pulled up a seat beside her.

“I don’t plan on going back to Winterfell, I plan on going to White Harbor.” 

“White Harbor?”

Sansa sighed, she already knew Brienne would not approve. She’ll try to stop her, but she had to let her know the threat they would be walking into if Brienne was to come along.

“I have been corresponding with Wylla Manderly of White Harbor, she has agreed to provide me with a crew and a good ship. She’s helped me set up a meeting with someone... very important.” Sansa was dreading the next part, hoping Brienne would understand.

“And this Wylla, she doesn’t ask anything in return?” Brienne asked.

“No, I am very fortunate that House Manderly is so loyal to House Stark. I am going to give her this cloak that I’ve made for her. The mermaid’s long green hair was quite tricky, but look how lovely it turned out. I also plan to give her some dragon glass weapons.”

“It is quite lovely yes, My Lady. So you’ll have a crew, and the ship... but who are you meeting?”

Sansa took a deep breath, “Euron Greyjoy.”

“Euron Greyjoy!? My lady, he can not be trusted.” Brienne clenched her hands.

“I don’t trust him, but he is Cersei’s ally. If I can convince him to work with me, Cersei loses her fleet. Her army will be forced to march on land, she hasn’t any dragon glass weapons to arm twenty thousand men with. They won’t make it all the way North without losing a large number of men. I’m hoping to get Euron to take me to Kings Landing, where I am going to face Cersei, once and for all.” 

Brienne sat back in her chair and pressed her palm to her forehead, “You didn’t tell Jon about this, I presume.”

Sansa shook her head, “I told him what Cersei was, I warned him that she was going to come and destroy everything we’ve built.“

“Maybe he didn’t want to let Queen Daenerys know that Cersei would not honor the truce. Taking action against her would’ve alerted her that something was wrong.” Briennes’ face was tense, lines ran deep across her forehead.

“He wouldn’t even talk about it, he thinks I’m still the same stupid little girl he knew all those years ago. I did my best to hold everything together while he was away, I thought he’d return and start taking me seriously. Instead, he did exactly what I warned him not to do. He tries to protect me by keeping me out of decisions like this, but it only leaves us more vulnerable. I won’t lose Jon like I lost Robb, I won’t let the Lannisters hurt my family ever again.” Sansa’s voice was shrill, threatening to let out a sob at any moment.

“My Lady, I must advise against this. I swore an oath to protect you, and I can not support you in this if I am to honor that oath.”

“I will not order you to follow me, I know the risk. I don’t want you to be in any danger, because of me.” 

Brienne jumped up, out of her seat, “Then don’t go.” She shouted.

Sansa stood up and slowly paced to the window, “I have to. If I wait for her to attack us, it’ll be too late. After Jon’s defeated the Night King, our forces will be tired, they won’t be able to fight another war against twenty thousand mercenaries. I won’t ask that of them... I just need to talk to her, I know it’s me she wants. I can’t let her take another person I love away. If what Jaime says is true, she’s going to attack soon. I’m going to deal with it before she does.” 

Brienne shook her head in disagreement, her face set in a disappointed frown. Her arms crossed over her chest, “I can’t allow it.”

Sansa paced back to her loyal friend, and grasped one of her clenched hands, “It’s hard being a woman in Westeros. We are never heard, our opinions never asked. Take the Battle of the Bastards, I told Jon we would be at a disadvantage. Jon is bound by honor and duty, much like my father was. Ramsey was a monster, just like Joffrey was. I knew that if I didn’t ask The Knights of the Vale to fight for us, Ramsey was going to do to Jon what Joffrey did to my father.” 

Brienne sighed deeply and met Sansa’s gaze, “Is there no other way?” She asked, as she returned Sansa’s grasp.

“If I find one, I’ll take it.” She assured her.

“Jon is going to be so angry with me.” Brienne told her, “And, no body else knows about any of this?” She asked.

“Arya and Bran do, but I’ve asked them not to tell Jon. He would never have allowed it, we also have another plan in place. Should anything happen, Arya has Littlefinger’s face, she can get close to Cersei as I believe they were corresponding before his death. All I have to do is send her this raven to alert her.” Sansa released Brienne’s hand and walked to the cage, where the large black raven was sleeping.

Brienne sighed, “Jon would’ve listened if he knew how strongly you felt about it.”

“He wouldn’t. It’s not his fault, he doesn’t know Cersei, he doesn’t know that she’s just as dangerous as the Night King. He thinks we can defeat her after the wars been won against the white walkers. He doesn’t know that Cersei won’t wait for the war to be over. He wants to keep me safe, and he tries his best.”

“I know what it’s like to be underestimated. My Lady, I don’t think that’s what he’s doing. Jon trusts you, I saw it the day he left the North in your hands. It feels wrong that he doesn’t know.” Brienne sat back down in her chair with another sigh, “He is going to be furious when he finds out where we’ve gone.” 

Sansa’s eyebrows shot up and a smile grew on her lips, “You approve of me going?” 

“No, I approve of us going.” She smiled.

Sansa flung her arms around Brienne and thanked her over and over, “I’ll pour us some wine!” She ran to the table and poured them both a cup each. She poured Ghost a bowl of fresh water and set it down beside him. He sat up, ears perked in the air and drank.

Sansa handed Brienne her cup, and sat down in the chair beside her. 

“Now, you must tell me the story about how you fought a bear.” They threw their heads back in laughter, God’s did it feel good to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading


	12. Arachnophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get moving for Jon in the Great War, Sansa faces the storm.
> 
>  **WARNING**  
>  Some blood and gore ahead

**Jon**

“How is it looking?” Jon asked as he climbed off his horse. It had been a fortnight since they’d arrived at Last Hearth. There, they’d found Tormund, Beric, and a few brothers of the Nights Watch who survived the attack on the Wall. When Jon heard about Eastwatch, he had expected to meet the army of the dead on their march North.

Every morning Grey Worm, the Kingslayer, Tormund and Beric would ride out to scout the lines they’d drawn against the army of the dead. Jon had ordered his forces to set up camp in the land surrounding Last Hearth, a short ride from an icy cliff they were using to spy on the white walkers. They’d wanted to see what it was that they were doing, why they hadn’t attacked yet. There was a huge looming tower made of ice, right by the Bay of Seals. In all the time they had been scouting, Jon hadn’t seen the Night King. The undead Viserion sat atop an ice tower, he just sat there like the rest of them. At least one hundred thousand corpses stood at attention, they didn’t move or make so much as a sound. They only stood there, bright blue eyes cast foreword.

Every time Jon looked down at them, his belly would turn. What were they doing?

“Still no sight of him.” Tormund said, eyes narrowed and peering over the cliff.

“We should be glad of it, if they start moving we’re going to have to stop them. Or at least try to. If we lose, the Long Night will fall upon us all. There will be nothing left to stop it from coming for the whole world.” Beric told him.

Jon nodded his head, soon they’d have to move in on them, but something felt wrong. Whatever it was that the Night King was doing in that tower, it was not good.

Jon was glad to have the natural barrier to his advantage, he didn’t really know what to expect. He looked up at the sky, the clouds thick and grey. The sun would break through every afternoon for a few hours. It’s warmth a muted stream of light, like a candle’s light burning the last of its flame. 

“The Queen should not be here. It’s too dangerous.” Grey Worm said, as he pointed towards Last Hearth.

Jon furrowed his bow in confusion, and sighed in frustration when he spotted Daenerys and a Dorthraki guard riding up to them. She was wearing a black hooded cloak with pointed shoulder pads, she rode a pale white mare. Her guard wore layers of leather and a few furs.

“Aren’t you cold?” Jaime asked while they dismounted.

“No.” Dany answered, although he’d been talking to the guard. The poor man was already shivering, though he tried to hide it and it wasn’t even dark yet.

“You shouldn’t be here, Your Grace.” Jon told Dany, they had hardly spoken since she found out about Viserion being turned into a wight. 

“I’ll do as I please.” Daenerys said, “And I wanted to see Viserion.”

Jon only nodded and turned back around to look over the cliff.

“My Queen, he is right. This place is too dangerous. The dead are just over the cliff.” Grey Worm bowed his head, “I will take you back.” 

“You will do no such thing.” She waved him off, “Jon it has been weeks, what are we doing sitting around in Last Hearth, when the enemy is right here?” She motioned to the valley that lay below them, “I can turn every last one to ash. Every day that we wait, gives them a chance to advance on us.” Dany spoke with such urgency, she would have had them attack the day they’d arrived if it had been her decision. Anything to get this pesky war over and done with, so she could resume her war in the South.

“Aye, and what would you do about the undead dragon?” Jon immediately regretted speaking the words when Dany shot him a glare that reached all the way across her face from her flared nostrils, to her pursed lips.

“I have two dragons. He only has the one. You leave that part to me.” Her face was hard, as she looked out over the vast sea of dead men, she sighed wistfully at the sight of the huge blue dragon, slumped over the tower.

“It’s not that simple.” Beric blurted out, “A bear killed my friend Thoros, an undead bear. It sure was hard enough to kill, I don’t think this dragon will burn. Think about it, they’re born of fire... but this one was born again of ice.”

Dany pressed her lips together as she continued to look over the edge.

“We’re going to attack soon.” Jon said, hoping to calm her.

“Good.” She breathed.

Silence followed for some time, until Tormund broke it, “So how is Lady Sansa doing?”

Jon felt his eyes widen, but quickly composed himself, “She’s fine, she’s made sure to prepare us for this war.” 

“A few days after we’d arrived at Last Hearth, a shipment of furs and cloaks was sent from the Lady of Winterfell, herself. It was a great help, I heard every noble house in the North received one as well to give to their refugees.” Tormund told him.

“There’s still plenty of cloaks for those who need them most.” Beric said, looking sideways with his good eye, at the shivering Dorthraki guard.

Jon smiled, “She did that?”

“Oh aye, we didn’t get the chance to bring anything with us when that,” he pointed at the Night Kings tower, “Cunt destroyed Eastwatch. How do you like it?” He motioned to the black fur pelt, on his collar. The rich thick fabric fell all the way down past his legs, stopping just above the ground.

Jon nodded in approval, “I sent her a raven weeks ago, she still hasn’t responded. I’m worried.” He sighed, his breath turning to thick cloudy vapor against the air.

“She’s a Northerner, and kissed by fire too. A lucky one she is...” He paused, “And what of my Winterfell beauty?” Tormund asked Jon 

“She’s as fierce as ever.” Jon laughed.

“Ahh Brienne, some day she’ll hold me in her arms.” Tormund sighed. 

The Kingslayer’s head whipped around at him, “What did you just say?” His eyes narrowed, his good hand flexing over his hilt.

Tormund squared his shoulders, his fingers inches toward the dagger around his waist, “That someday Brienne of Tarth will hold me in her arms.” He declared.

“Enough!! There’s movement!!” Jon whispered, “Do you see that?” 

“It looks like...” Dany started, but soon all of them were at a loss for words when they saw the approaching ice like spiders, charging at them in large groups. They each had eight bright blue eyes and razor sharp pincers, and they were enormous.

“Spiders!!” Tormund shouted, drawing his dragon glass axe into fighting stance.

“We need to get back to the castle!! Go!” He growled, and off they ran to their horses.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jon looked around the great hall, he had called for a meeting so they could all be aware about the plan of attack.

“Everyone in this room despises me for one reason, or another. For what it’s worth, I am very grateful for how far we’ve come.” Jon had put on the cloak that Sansa made for him. He drew strength from how much it looked the one Ned Stark used to wear. Jon wondered what he would do if he had been there now.

“We have been watching the enemy for long enough. We’ve learned that they have taken up the vast lands known as the Gift. We’ve learned that the Night King has animated creatures from giant spiders, to undead dragons-“ The entire hall erupted into a buzz of complaints as Jon confirmed what had been believed to be a rumor, until then.

“There’s no time for that,” Jon shouted over them, his voice echoed off the rafters on the ceiling above, “Tomorrow we move in on their territory as soon as the sun breaks through the clouds. We won’t have much time, but we can draw them out of the woods when they’re at their weakest. We push them back into the woods, where it’ll be difficult for the Night King to attack from above with dragon fire. With him on the ground, all we have to do is kill him and the war is won. Rest well tonight, and thank you,” he nodded, “For you are the final line of defense between those things out there, and the rest of the world. The only way to win this, is by working together!” 

There were a few moments of silence before the wave of chatter washed across the hall. Daenerys sat at the table a few places away from Jon. As the hall began to clear out, he met her gaze. His mouth pressed tightly together into a pressed grin, Dany only pursed her lips as she stood up to leave.

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

 **Sansa**

Sansa and Brienne had finally arrived at White Harbor. A green haired woman waited patiently at the gates to the castle.

“Lady Stark,what an honor it is, to meet you.” Wylla smiled at Sansa and Brienne.

“Thank you for having us, My Lady.” Sansa felt so exhausted, it had been a long ride from Winter Town. Ghost padded to Sansa’s side and sniffed around the snow around him.

Two large men with tridents in their hands, slid their tridents onto their backs. They grabbed Brienne and Sansa’s trunks from the carriage and carried them inside.

“I will show you to your bedchambers, so you can rest. We’ll send suppers down shortly, and baths will be drawn for you.” She looked down at Ghost with a gasp, “Oh a dire wolf, how absolutely lovely!” 

“Hes Jon’s, his name is Ghost he is very quiet and well behaved.” Sansa told her.

“Hello, Ghost. He can stay in your room, if you’d like.” She knelt down and rubbed Ghost’s chest, he wagged his tail in delight.

Wylla led them through the gates to the castle, and up the stairs.

The front doors of the castle were lined with a row of guards, standing at attention. Sansa noticed right away that they were armed with tridents. Tridents that would not hold against the white walkers.

“Our guest has yet to arrive, he said he would be a few days.” Wylla told them. 

“Thank you again My Lady, I have some gifts I’d like to give you.” 

“No, My Lady it is important that you get your rest. It’s hard to tell in the winter, but it is very late. In the morning I’ll gladly accept your gifts. Hospitality is very important to us here at New Castle.” Wylla was young and kind, her elder sister Wynafryd waited at the top of the stairs. She welcomed their guests and the two sisters walked Sansa and Brienne down the hallway.

The room was big and spacious, once Sansa and Ghost were alone she walked over to the curtains. She pulled them open to find two large windowed doors, she pulled it open and stepped out into the balcony. Sansa looked out into the city in awe, as Ghost curled up on the soft feather bed. New Castle sat atop a tall hill, overlooking White Harbor. The city was made of white brick, and the heavy falling snow looked dreamlike.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sansa woke up from a dreamless sleep, she bathed and dressed for the day. There was a knock at the door it was Brienne, and a house maid. The house maid set down a bowl of food for Ghost, while Brienne helped Sansa with a bag of dragon glass. The house maid led them to the dining hall, it was a large hall filled with the people of the court. Marble tables lined across the hall and the Manderly merman banners hung from the high ceilings.

“Lady Wylla, we’ve brought you some dragon glass. The Great War is here, and with it come the white walkers. The dead men can be killed with fire, Valerian steel, and this,” She held up a dagger made of dragon glass from her cloak, “Dragon glass can be made into weapons. Though I hope you won’t ever need to use it, it’s best to prepare for the worst.”

The hall buzzed with chatter, “Thank you Lady Sansa, you are too kind.” A large burly man came and took the bag. 

After breakfast, Sansa and Brienne had been invited for a tour of the castle led by Wylla.

After the tour, Sansa invited Wylla to her bedchamber. She sat down beside Ghost as Sansa found the cloak she’d made for her. 

“I wanted to take this time to thank you again Lady Wylla, your kindness shall never be forgotten. I’ve made you this cloak, to keep you warm during this long winter.” Sansa handed it to Wylla, her eyes gleamed with wonder. 

“Lady Sansa, this is just gorgeous. I can’t thank you enough.” Wylla held up it up from the black fur pelt. It was a long hooded cloak made of fine deep green velvet, with a beautifully bright blue mermaid detail on the left shoulder. She put it on immediately and looked down at herself. 

“Lord Euron has sent word that he should be arriving soon, My Lady.” Wylla told Sansa.

“Might I ask, how you came to make his acquaintance?” Sansa asked.

“He spent some time here before his return to Pyke, My Lady. He can be crude, rude, and foolish. But he has a level of respect for us here at White Harbor.” She assured her as she made her way to the door.

“Thank you again my Lady, I’ll see you at dinner.” 

Wylla smiled and stepped out of the room. Sansa wondered what Euron would be like, she’d only heard of him from Ser Jaime. What he’d told her of him was not good at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next day Wylla wasn’t in the hall at breakfast, Sansa hadn’t seen her for the rest of the day. Wylla sent a house maid to invite Sansa to dine in her bedchambers.

She was led there by the sweet maid, when they’d arrived Sansa thanked her and went in to Wyllas’ room. 

Wylla stood by the windowed doors in her room, she was holding a fine cloth in her hand, and a goblet of wine in the other. When she turned around to face Sansa, her eyes were tinged with red and swollen. 

“Lady Sansa, please have a seat.” She croaked, her voice was thick with grief.

Sansa sat at the table where the food was laid out, “Lady Wylla, I can leave you in peace if you’d-“ she started.

“I invited you, I apologize for my tears.” She sniffed and dabbed at them, “You see My Lady, we’ve received word from my Lord father Wylis. He is returning here, to bring the remains of my Grandfather, Lord Wyman.”

Sansa had seen them both the day she left, they had no clue Sansa was going to White Harbor. Wyman had wished her safe travels that morning. Her heart started pounding wildly in her chest as she listened in horror to what Wylla told her next.

“My Grandfather was always very outspoken, I can imagine he said something disrespectful to the Dragon Queen, it wasn’t specified exactly what the reasons were.. why she had him dragged to a clearing just outside of Winterfell, where he was then executed by dragon fire.” Wylla was able to utter the words, but was torn apart by a heartbreaking sob right after.

Sansa had so many questions, so many fears, but as she looked upon sweet young Wylla torn apart by grief all Sansa was able to say was, “I’m sorry.” She stood up and flung her arms around her, “I should’ve been there to protect him. It’s all my fault, I’m sorry” Sansa was weeping now too, embracing the green haired girl, knowing exactly how much pain she was in. 

“No My Lady, you protected him all the months he’s been away. You are not to blame here, I’m sure when my father arrives he will tell us every last detail. Until then I blame only the Dragon Queen, this is not the first noble man to suffer at the hands of Daenerys Targaryen.” 

“Have you eaten anything? I know it’s hard but you must take care of yourself.” 

“I can’t, I just keep thinking about the last thing I said to him. Why didn’t I tell him I loved him?” She sobbed against Sansa’s shoulder.

“I’m sure he knew My Lady, he was always very proud of his house. He loved you too, never forget it.” Sansa whispered, tears fell from her eyes in quick short drops as she remembered her own regret of not being kinder to her father all those years ago. 

They sat in the silent room, Sansa pulled a chair to Wyllas’ side and led her to sit down. 

A horn sounded from the gates, some one had arrived, “That would be Euron, My Lady.” Her body shook with a sob, “We should greet him at once, there’s a storm on its way. The Maester says it’s a big one.”

“Lady Wylla, I can greet him. I’m sure he’ll understand given the circumstances.”

“That would be so kind of you My Lady.” She sniffed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the time Sansa made it to the front of the castle with Brienne at her side, she saw a man stomping up the steps, he looked a bit like Theon did when he’d come back from a hunt with Robb. Only this was not Theon, this was his uncle. Sansa put in her iron mask, as he walked right up to her and stopped a few steps below her. 

“I’m Euron Greyjoy,” he bowed his head slightly, slowly lifting his gaze from the bottom of Sansa’s skirts, all the way up to her face. 

“Thank you for coming My Lord, I am Sansa Stark. I’m afraid the Manderlys wont be able to join us today.” She curtsied, spoke softly and kept a gentle face.

“Well I’m told you’re the one I am here to meet, Lady Wylla didn’t tell me you were so gorgeous. I would’ve been here sooner.” Euron was an attractive man, he was direct. He would be an easy man to read.

“The Manderlys have a kind staff. They’ll show you where you’ll be staying, and when you’re rested we can talk.” Sansa turned to walk into the castle, but stopped when she noticed Euron hadn’t moved to follow her. 

She turned back to look at him, but he was looking up at the sky. The wind picked up and blew Sansa’s hood back. It sent her hair dancing around in the falling snow. 

Euron let his clear blue eyes fall back down to Sansa, “There’s a storm coming, storms are never much of a problem to me... but this is a force of nature, stronger than any storm I’ve ever encountered. We’ll talk and eat, but I’m afraid there’s not much time for anything else.” 

Sansa nodded in agreement, leading him into a common room. 

He leaned against the desk, facing Sansa. Brienne stepped inside and closed the door behind her. The fireplace was roaring behind Euron, Sansa could only see his tall silhouette.

“You’re pressed for time, so I’ll get right to the point.” Sansa started, “I want to offer you an alliance. If you’ll help us win the war against Cersei, I’ll support your conquest of the throne.” 

Euron stood quietly thinking, “I’m gonna need more reassurance, My Lady. What you purpose is treason, to double cross my betrothed. On the promise of support, that’s too empty for me. On that proposal, My answer is no. I have more to gain marrying Cersei.” Euron’s lips twisted into a treacherous smile that made Sansa want to crawl out of her skin.

“I came here because Cersei has a price on your head, I thought if anything I could take you to her to please her. As I’ve done with the Dragon Queens allies.” 

Sansa heard Brienne take a few steps behind her, she signaled at her to stand down. 

“Maybe that would get her to finally marry me. I have made the mistake of trusting Cersei on an empty promise, much like you purpose to me now. She agreed to marry me after we’ve won the war against the Daenerys. I accepted simply because she is the one of the two queens who had the throne. Daenerys is beautiful but-“ he laughed, “no one will support a Queen who burns people alive, not after the Mad King. No, I want a Queen who is beautiful and strong, Cersei and Daenerys are both of those things, only they’re both fucking crazy too!” 

Sansa sighed, seeing what Euron wanted was so simple. At first she’d thought he wanted the throne, but he wants more than that. He wants a Queen who will not overpower him. He wants a pretty little bird who sings on command, on his command. He wants power.

“But then I am invited here, to meet you.” He walked over to the fireplace, “You are a true born Stark. The North will always follow you, Cersei couldn’t even bring the North to bend the knee- she never will. After a bit of thinking about these lands that I hope to someday rule, I noticed that House Stark has the most vassals out of both Queens at war.” 

He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, “I would be very, very smart to marry someone that will inspire support after the wars are all won. I won’t get that with any other Queen, only with you.” 

Brienne quickly walked to Sansa’s side, and gripped her hand around the hilt of her sword. 

“I’m not a Queen, My Lord.” She told him.

“Not yet, but if you marry me. I can make you Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I will leave your half brother as Warden of the North. In return, I will not aid Cersei any further and I will take all thirty ships in the Lannister fleet as my own. I will kill her and the Dragon Queen, restoring peace to the realm.” 

“If I were to accept your proposal, I would not be marrying you until after Cersei is dealt with. You understand?” Sansa shuddered at the words underneath her mask. 

“I do.” Euron’s eyes gleamed with excitement. He held out his hand for her to shake, “That’s how right of conquest works right, we kill the rulers and take over.”

“And how do you plan on stopping Daenerys?” She asked, eyeing his hand, still outstretched.

“I have Dragon Binder. I sailed the dark Smoking Sea and found it in the ruins of Valyria. In the rising mis-“ Euron stopped talking when he met Sansa’s gaze, his smug look melted away into a kind look. He looked quite handsome when his eyes weren’t so hard and smug.

“You have such beautiful eyes, and soon you will be my Queen. I won’t lie to you, I want very much for this alliance to work. So, I will be honest. I seized the Dragon Horn from a ship of Red Priests on Storms End, they were sailing from Rhollor. They told me they were headed North, I thought I’d tell you the truth in case you were expecting them.” 

Sansa briefly wondered why the Red Priests would go North, she quickly composed herself before he took notice. 

“They had books of spells and little gold, nothing of value. So, I was about to kill them when they begged me to let them go. They offered me a horn, they say it is spelled to give its Master the power to control dragons. I let them go, taking their horn for myself.” Euron slowly paced back to the center of the room where Sansa stood. 

Sansa sighed, knowing that she would now have to worry about Cersei having control of Daenerys’ dragons.

“I can offer you Dragon Binder, well use it to use the dragons against the Dragon Queen after I murder Cersei.”

Sansa walked to a window nearby, she could see the snow and wind had picked up outside. 

“You are a very impressive man, Lord Euron. I ask you to give me until after dinner, to answer to your proposal.” Sansa turned to make eye contact, “I would very much appreciate it.” 

“Of course, we’ll meet here after we’ve dined.” Euron smiled widely at Brienne, as he walked out the door.

Brienne hooked her arm around Sansa’s elbow and quickly led her to Sansa’s bedchamber. 

Once the door was closed behind her she turned to Sansa, wide eyed and filled with rage, “Lady Sansa, please don’t tell me you are actually considering marrying this slimy man. He’s a pirate, who only cares about your surname.”

“Oh Brienne, that’s all anybody ever cares about. My surname, my claims, I’ve made peace with that. At least this way Cersei would be weakened and the dragon horn will solve Daenerys’ dragon threat. He’s even offered to be the one to kill them both.”

“My Lady, I thought Queen Daenerys was to marry Jon. Wouldn’t the dragon horn upset her?” Brienne asked.

“I haven’t had the chance to tell you have I? Daenerys burned Lord Wyman Manderly in front of all the Northern Houses. I even thought of going back to Winterfell, fearing for Jon. He would never allow her to do that something must be wrong. Then Euron told me about the horn. If I don’t ally with him, Cersei will have control of the Dragons.”

“I just don’t trust him.” Brienne crossed her arms and scowled at the floor.

Sansa opened the windowed door for Ghost who had been pawing at it. The wind blew the doors open and the curtains flipped wildly in the wind. Ghost stood on his hind legs and sniffed the air, whimpering while he looked off into the distance.

“Neither do I, Brienne. I am going to agree only if we carry everything out my way. I’ll agree to marry him when the realm is no longer under any danger. That means Daenerys and Cersei both. And that is all assuming we survive the Night King.” 

“Do you expect Euron will survive?” She asked.

”I’m not sure. If he becomes a threat, we’ll deal with him the way we dealt with Littlefinger.” Sansa said, as she pushed one of the doors closed. 

“I will be by your side every step of the way My Lady. I will see to it that he does not lay a hand on you.” She vowed, as she sat on Sansa’s bed.

“Do you know that I lost all hope that real Knights existed? You have shown me that there are still true Knights, and I am honored to be under your protection. Thank you, Brienne.” She felt her eyes well up for a moment, until a chilling wind turned her forming tears ice cold. She dried them, and noticed Ghost was still whimpering. This was not like him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After a lively Dinner with Euron and his men, Sansa listened to some of their vile stories and faked an interest. 

Sansa and Brienne made their way to the common room, where Euron sat waiting on a chair.

“I am willing to accept your proposal, under a few circumstances. First, we do this my way. I don’t think murder should be our answer to everything. We try to get Cersei and Daenerys to answer to their crimes in a fair trial. Next, I will only marry you after they are brought to justice. And last, I am to follow you on my own boat. I don’t like the idea of me being completely reliant on you.” 

Euron pondered for a while, “I like you, your strong, beautiful, and intelligent.” He shook his head, “I accept your terms.” He stood up and held out his hand to her. Sansa looked at his hand, then back up to his face as she took it and shook. 

“I hope you’re ready to go, we leave in exactly one hour. This storm is quick on its way and we must stay ahead of it.” Euron told her.

“Then I’ll see you in an hour, my Lord.”

Brienne escorted Sansa to her chambers, her own room was right across the hall. They said goodnight, and closed their doors. Sansa saw that Ghost was still acting strange. She’d taken him out hoping a walk might calm him. Yet he whimpered even more than before, as he pawed at the windowed door.

“What’s wrong boy? Is it the storm?” His ears drooped down, and he held his snout up in the air. Sansa opened one of the doors to the balcony, he ran out and started to howl. 

She thought he might be afraid of the storm, but that wasn’t it, he wanted to go into it. Sansa sighed and offered him more food and water, before going to thank and say goodbye to the Manderlys.

When it was time to go, Sansa walked Ghost out of the castle. She led him through the gates and on to the road that they’d arrived on, he padded away sniffing at the snow. 

Sansa climbed on her horse, Brienne climbed on hers as well. The wind howled and pierced their skin like a million tiny daggers made of ice. Sansa pulled up her hood, only for it to be blown back down.

“The storm is going to hit soon. The quicker we’re at sea, the safer we’ll be.” Euron shouted to the group of men mounted on their horses ready to go. 

The Manderly crew was there as well as Eurons‘ crew. They were to ride around the mountain roads around the city to get to the harbor. Ghost followed shortly behind Sansa.

Euron fell back to ride beside Sansa and Brienne, their men rode ahead of them, “I am glad to have met with you Lady Sansa, I think we are going to do great things together.” He shot her a smug smile.

“What’s happening?” Sansa asked him, when they had all halted to a stop. Ghost’s ears perked straight up in the air as he sniffed the cold winter air. He darted to the clearing just off the road, “Ghost!” Sansa shouted, riding after him.

The wind howled with a fury and snow whipped all around them, Ghost let out a low rumbling growl, barring his teeth at the blizzard that had begun to form before them. 

Euron and Brienne rushed to her side on their horses. Just as Brienne was about to speak, a metallic screech echoed all around them. 

“We need to keep moving!!!!” Sansa yelled at the men on the road, “Now!!” Her heart thumped wildly out of control as she looked ahead of them on the road. She saw a group of bright blue eyes staring at them, the men looked ahead uncertain of what they were looking at. 

Sansa charged back to the road, “No!! No!! Stay back!!” She yelled, but the wind drowned out her shouts. 

Right before she reached them, a man jumped off his horse. He walked up to the blue eyed figures in the snow, his long sword drawn.

Sansa made it back to the crowd, as they all watched in horror. The blue eyes were spread across the snowy ground, and when the man walked closer they multiplied. One by one they rose up off the ground, they took shape and Sansa gasped in terror. They had eight long legs, and pincers that were as sharp as a dragons fang. They looked like they were made of ice, they each had eight piercing eyes. Sansa quickly realized that they were white walkers, just like stories Old Nan would tell about the Long Night. Spiders made of ice, big as hounds. 

The man lunged at the spider, drawing back his sword. The giant spider ran at him and pushed him down to the ground. It lowered its pincers down into the man’s neck, and ripped the skin open. The man gurgled an awful scream as the hot blood spilled out of his neck in spurts. 

Every one shouted and drew their weapons, Ghost snarled and ran right into the group of spiders that gathered before them. 

“Run back to New Castle, Sansa! Go now!!” Brienne yelled, sword in her hand.

“No! We need to keep going! We won’t be able to leave if the storm hits!” Euron yelled, “Stay here, I’ll be back!!” He ran up the road, wielding a war hammer in his hands.

“He’s right, we have to push through.” Sansa shouted to Brienne.

“Stay close to me My Lady!” She shouted back.

Up ahead Sansa watched in horror as the men chopped off spider legs and plunged their swords into their eyes. The road was covered in bloody snow and horse corpses. One of the iron born men was caught by his arm in one of their pincers, he screamed out in pain and one of the other creatures shot an icy web out around his feet. The man fell to the floor, his shoulder shooting out streams of blood while his severed arm fell beside him. The spider continued to wrap him in its web, when Ghost jumped up from behind him. He dug his jaws around the front of the spider’s head and ripped it off in one quick tear. Sansa watched as he did the same to another one. Euron crushed one of its legs when it climbed up onto his horse, it fell to the floor screeching in pain. Euron drew back his two handed hammer and smashed its head in with one quick swing. 

Many of the iron born fell, as they didn’t have the weapons to do any real damage or to effectively kill a white walker spider. The Manderly crew men were given tridents reinforced with dragon glass, when they speared the spiders, they’d writhe in pain as they fell to pieces where the stood. 

Ghost ran back to Sansa’s side and she sighed in relief that he was unharmed. He perked up and lifted his snout up towards the sky. He threw his head back in a loud howl.

“What the fuck!” Euron yelled as he watched the spiders he’d just killed, weave themselves together with their frozen webs.

“Why won’t these things die?” One of the iron born men shouted.

Two Manderly men threw their tridents at the spiders as they rode up from the ground, killing the last of them. 

Ghost howled again, this time longer that the ones before. Sansa squinted her eyes into the blizzard before her and gasped when she made out more giant ice spiders crawling up the mountain at them. 

“GO GO GO!!!” Sansa screamed, clutching the reins of her horse as it charged down the road. Brienne followed, her eyes wide with fear.

Ghost darted to Sansa’s side, they had made it close enough to see the harbor, when the metallic screeching caught up to them. One by one men were knocked off their horses. Sansa looked back, her hair whipping around her face as Ghost jumped in front of a spider that was meant to throw her into the ground. Ghost ripped off its head and ran after her again. 

Sansa heard howls echo all around her, the wind relentlessly blew snowflakes down on them. 

A flash of white threw Brienne from her horse, “No!” Sansa shouted, as Ghost rushed to her side and bit off the spiders legs. Brienne plunged her sword into the spiders body and it fell. She nodded to Ghost and ran ahead chasing after her horse, striking down any spider to come near her.

Ghost caught back up to Sansa’s side, he stayed close until a spider shot his hind legs with one of its webs and he fell with a whimper.

“Ghost!!!” Sansa screamed, pulling her horse to halt. The terrified horse would not respond to Sansa’s direction. She looked back, still on her horse as the spider jumped on Ghost’s back. He turned on his back and bit into the place where the spiders eight eyes glowed. It fell back with a screech. Ghost bit at the webs around his legs, freeing himself. He stood up, and a spider jumped on his back and wrapped its legs around his torso. Ghost threw himself back on to the spider and it released him on impact. 

He wrenched himself free only to be met with two more coming at him. Sansa felt her tears turn to ice, as she watched the spiders shoot Ghost with more webbing. A Manderly man who had been knocked off his horse, speared the one and then another. He drew back his trident and killed the last spider near Ghost. The dire wolf chewed at the webs and just as he freed himself again, he and the man who’d saved him were looking all around eyes wide in disbelief. 

They were surrounded by hundreds of bright blue eyes. As they closed in, a great big figure jumped out from behind the curtain of the snow storm. It was a huge grey and white dire wolf, she jumped in front of Ghost and snarled at the surrounding spiders. Growls emerged from the flurry of falling snow and Sansa gasped in shock at the sight of the hundreds of wolves crouched and snarling all around from behind the surrounding spiders.

Nymeria!? Sansa thought as she recognized her sisters beloved wolf. 

Nymeria stood by Ghost’s side and when he too stood up, they pounced on the spiders closest to them. The horse wouldn’t slow down, so Sansa jumped off, landing on a heap of snow. Her cloak clinged to her body against the wind and she felt the stinging cold of the snow. She crawled to her knees and watched in disbelief as the wolves snarled they tore through the giant spiders, ripping them to shreds. 

“Ghost!! Nymeria!!!” Sansa shouted, her voice weak with fear. She wasn’t going to leave them behind, she ran as fast as she could. When she’d neared the fighting, she saw Euron and Brienne side by side fighting their way out of the crowd. They made it out and rushed to her side.

“We have to get to the row boat!!” Euron shouted as he ran past her, chasing after a horse.

“No! Ghost is still out there!! I won’t leave him!” Sansa shouted, running back into the fight.

She let out a scream when she felt hands grasping her by the shoulders, “Let go of me!!” She fought and tried her hardest to pull herself free.

“My Lady, please!!” Brienne’s voice pleaded.

Euron had ridden back to them on a horse, dragging another horse along beside him. He gave them a questioning look, as he watched Brienne pull Sansa up on to the horse.

“We can’t leave him!!” She screamed, tears rolling halfway down her cheeks, turning to ice against her face. 

“We must, I’m sorry.” Brienne climbed on the horse behind her and held her in place with her iron grip.

They charged full speed down the road to the harbor, when they arrived they rushed past the men standing on the boardwalk. 

Brienne warned them of the giant spiders, while Euron pulled the boat close enough for them to get in to. The men threw their heads back in laughter, which quickly died out when one of the iron born men approached. His forearm ripped off, bone and flesh hung down from his elbow and it dripped blood at the feet of the men who had been previously mocking them. 

“Burn the dead, or they’ll rise back up again.” Brienne told them as she climbed on to the boat, pulling Sansa along with her. 

Euron and Brienne grabbed the oars and started rowing right away. The oars broke through a thin layer of ice that had formed above the water. No matter how fast they rowed, they hardly advanced.

“Will we be waiting for the rest of the men?” Brienne asked Euron.

“No, were not waiting for a fucking thing. We were lucky to make it out of that alive!” Euron laughed, as he looked back over his shoulder. 

“But our crew, our ship, we agreed we’d have our own ship.” Brienne said in between her heaving as she rowed.

“I’ll let you have one of mine, I have the largest fleet in Westeros. Take your pick.” He nodded his head in the direction of the fleet that lay ahead of them, it must’ve been at least 50 great big ships. 

“My Lady?” Brienne asked Sansa, her face strained with exhaustion.

Sansa simply shook her head up and down, she didn’t even try to speak. She knew only sobs would come out. Ghost had only ever tried to protect her, he never left her side. And she was leaving him behind to die fighting for her. She felt the tightness in her throat rise as she took one last look at the harbor before it was completely out of sight behind the blizzard.

When they had arrived at the huge ship, Sansa was the first to climb the roped ladder. She reached the top and was helped to her feet by the crew members. They spoke to her, but Sansa couldn’t make anything they said out. The whole world had gone silent, but a ringing in her ears. She ran to the bow of the ship and looked back at the city of White Harbor. Her eyes filled with tears that would soon freeze where they fell as she thought of poor Ghost and Nymeria. She prayed that they would make it out of there safely. She prayed for Arya and Bran, that they’d never have to face those vicious creatures. And, she prayed for Jon. That he would bring the dawn again, like she believed with all her heart that he would. 

“All those wolves back there, did you do that?” Euron asked, a few paces behind her.

“No.” She answered.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am using Dragon Binder because I love the idea of it from the books, it creates a whole new platform for power. The ice spiders are talked about a few times, I’m hoping we get to see all the creatures that are helping the army of the dead. 
> 
> ***Do not fear for Nymeria & Ghost, there will be no dire wolves harmed in the writing of this fic lol***


	13. Remember Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Bran have troubles on the road, Theon finds a moment of warmth before leading his squad on their mission to save Yara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING:**  
>  Violence, Blood, Smut ahead. The first part of Theon’s chapter is nsfw hehe

**Arya**

They’d been on the way to Greywater Watch for almost three days now. The snow was relentless, but they carried on. Gilly and Little Sam rode in a wagon filled with provisions drawn by Sam’s horse, he and Maester Wolkan had built a saddle for Bran so he could ride, they modeled it after the one Lord Tyrion Lannister had given to him all those years ago. 

Arya loved to see her brother riding again, she remembered how much he used to enjoy it. With all his furs and the way his auburn hair fell against his dark blue eyes, he looked so much like Robb. Arya felt her eyes tear up and her bottom lip trembled thinking of him. She bit down on her lip and shut her eyes, tilting her face up against the falling snow. She took a deep calming breath, before looking ahead.

“What’s that?” Gendry asked squinting into the road ahead of them.

“Looks like a broken down carriage.” Arya answered, “Wait here, Gendry and I will go make sure it’s safe.” She told them, climbing off her horse. 

She handed the reins to Wolkan, and crept up towards the carriage. Gendry’s horse wandered near Bran’s sniffing the surrounding snow beneath it. Gendry pulled his hammer out of the wagon and followed closely behind her. 

Arya held out her hand when she heard something moving in the carriage, signaling for Gendry to stop. They listened quietly as they heard more movement, Arya slowly and quietly drew Needle. She nudged her head for them to keep going, Gendry quickened his pace taking the lead. 

As they walked closer they noticed the carriage had been sacked. It couldn’t have happened very long ago, as there were trails of fresh blood soaked onto the snowy ground. The thumping in the carriage sped up as if whatever was inside, could hear their approaching footsteps. Gendry stood by the door and with a nod to Arya, he pulled it open. 

She was met with two pairs of bright blue glowing eyes. One of them was a man, arrows had been shot all over his body, pinning him to the wall of the carriage. The other was a woman, her belly swollen with child. Their flesh was white and pale, and there was blood everywhere. Blood covered gold dragons, scattered all over the floor. 

The dead woman let out an awful blood curdling screech, and lunged at Arya. She swiftly dodged out of the way, turning around with Needle in hand. She slashed the dead woman across her face, making her scream again. This time louder, it caused the man arrowed down in the carriage to screech as well. He pushed himself against the wall and pulled his body through the arrows, freeing himself.

The woman made Arya feel sick, there was a knife still buried into her chest. She wondered who could do such a terrible thing to a family, and not even give them the mercy of a final death. It felt wrong to harm a woman with child, even if she was dead. The woman lunged at Arya again, narrowly missing her and falling to the ground. Arya took a deep breath and hardened her heart. Unsheathing her dagger, she flipped it up and caught it on the way down, plunging it deep into the woman’s back. She fell limp on the ground, Arya looked up to see Gendry smashing his hammer into the dead man’s belly he flew back into the carriage, his body slammed against the wall.

“Help me with the woman?” Arya asked him.

He nodded and together they dragged the woman’s body into the carriage, closing the door after her.

As Gendry picked up his hammer, they heard Gilly scream.

“Let’s go!” Arya whispered.

They ran back, and were confronted with four strange men holding weapons, ready to attack. One man held a dagger to Sam’s throat, while Gilly and Little Sam watched weeping in fear. Another man held a sword out to Maester Wolkan’s chest. Podrick frowned in shame while a man held the tip of a spear right to his temple. Another held a nocked arrow, aimed at Bran’s head. The fifth man was a dark haired man with his back turned, but spoke to Gendry and Arya without looking.

“You have two options. Give us your wagon and we’ll let you live. Or don’t and die.” He turned to look Gendry in the eye. His face had a deep jagged scar from his hairline all the way down the left side of his face to his bearded chin, “Now let’s see how smart you are. Take your weapons, and slowly put them into the wagon.”

“Who are you?” Arya shouted.

“We were stationed at the Dreadfort, Lord Bolton ordered that we hold it. We’ve run out of provisions, and now we must to find what we can out here.” The scarred man told her.

“Haven’t you heard? Lord Bolton is dead, his house along with him.” Gendry laughed.

The man who stood before them scowled deeply, “Of course I’ve heard. Death does not free us from honoring those orders.”

“So you’re in open rebellion?” Arya asked.

“There is no order in this kingdom. Nor in the other six, I wouldn’t call it a rebellion.” He rasped.

“Sansa Stark married Ramsey Bolton. That makes her the rightful heir to the Dreadfort. Wouldn’t that mean you take orders from her now?” Sam asked, his voice strained from the pressure of the dagger against his throat.

“He’s right, Sansa is my sister, I am Arya Stark of Winterfell.” She paused, “I find it strange that you ran out of provisions, I saw my sister’s plans myself. She sent every house in the North furs and blankets, along with the locations of food stores she’s saved up, the Dreadfort included... I have a feeling you’re lying to us, you were probably driven away because of your undying loyalty to House Bolton and even if you weren’t, I saw what you did to that poor family. I might have given you the chance to live, if you hadn’t hurt them.” She smiled sweetly through narrowed eyes.

The men all exchanged glances, before bursting out into laughter. Arya‘s eyes darted to the man holding his knife to Sam’s throat when he grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair, and bared his neck. He pressed the blade tight against his throat, “Let’s just kill these fucks and take their wagon already, I’m freezing out here.” He shouted.

The scarred man’s smile faded, “This one here lives,” He motioned to Arya, “Kill the rest.”

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

**Bran**

In the blink of an eye, Arya pulled out her dagger and threw it at the man restraining Sam. She hit him right between the eyebrows. He dropped his dagger and fell to the ground. Everything moved so quickly.

Bran had been looking at Gendry’s horse pacing around, behind the man threatening to kill him during the whole conversation. He quickly warged into it, and kicked his hind legs against the man who had been holding an arrow to his head with a neigh. Bran felt the man’s skull crack through his hooves. Bran quickly pulled away and returned back into his body before it fell limp.

Bran looked back at Arya and saw that Gendry was fighting the man with the scar on his face. Arya ran to Maester Wolkan’s side, swiftly defeating the man holding a sword to his chest. He swung his blade at her, but Arya was too quick. She spun her small sword so gracefully, it was almost like a dance. With each twirl of her blade she stepped closer to the man, he stood his ground, and in the blink of an eye she kicked him in the belly and stuck her sword through his heart as he doubled over. 

The scarred man unsheathed another sword and Arya ran to help Gendry. Gendry blocked a swing of the man’s sword just as Arya slashed the back of the man’s knee. He fell to the floor, and Gendry smashed his hammer against the man’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for breath, but his lungs never filled and he fell backwards into the snow with fear in his muggy green eyes. 

Podrick flung himself off of his horse and pulled a dagger out of his boot. The man who was holding a spear to his head, ran around Podrick’s horse and threw his spear at him. With a grunt, Podrick threw himself to the ground dodging the spear. The man retreated, but Podrick grabbed the spear and threw it into his back. It exited through his chest, spilling blood all over the floor beneath him. Breathless, Podrick slid his blade back into its scabbard and quickly climbed back on to his horse.

Gendry took Arya’s shoulders in his hands, and searched for any injuries. She was breathing hard through a smile of relief as she grasped his elbows. They stood there in each other’s arms for quite some time, he looked away in surprise though his face didn’t show it. Bran didn’t notice that they had grown so close, just another one of the many things he had been unable to foresee.

“We’re burning the carriage, and throwing these idiots in as well.” Arya told them, climbing in her horse.

“Arya, I could’ve seen that. We don’t know what else is out there. I feel better, I promise.” He despised the dullness of his tone, “Please let me help.” Bran told Arya, riding beside her.

She sighed, “Bran, what if you have another attack?” 

“I won’t. A few moments with the next Heart Tree we come across, that would be enough.” Bran pleaded, he tried so hard to make her understand. But all that came out was his unchanging voice, like a squawking goose.

Arya took a deep breath, and nodded her head, “A few moments then.” 

He breathed in relief.

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

**Theon**

It was the night of the rescue, the plans were made and everything was ready to go. Theon took his men to the tavern they’d come to love. They sat in the area where Theons’ favorite serving maid worked. She was always glad to serve them, ever since the night Theon defended her from a vile man. 

Jenny set down a tray of cups filled with ale, smiling at Theon over her shoulder as she walked away. 

“Tonight, we rescue Yara!! She will lead us to glory!!” Bomar whispered, his cup in the air, “What is dead May never die!” 

“What is dead may never die!!” They all whispered hoarsely, before drinking deeply. They kept their heads and voices low, to avoid drawing attention to themselves.

Theon look down the table, he saw the faces of his men, and hoped that he was doing the right thing. That he wasn’t about to lead them all straight to their deaths. He snuck away and made his way just outside of the tavern. The fresh air hit his face and Theon took a deep breath, the city smelled awful, but in spite of that he had come to like it. 

“You having fun?” Jenny asked, a few steps behind Theon.

“Not really, I’m leaving tonight.” He answered.

“Why, that’s great! I wish I could leave here. It’s a dream of mine actually. To leave this place and go somewhere more private. This city is wonderful, but I want to make a home somewhere else some day.” She spoke softly, looking all around at the buildings surrounding them.

Theon nodded his head at her, and turned to go back inside, when he felt her hand grab him by the shoulder. He tuned back around and met her gaze. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you M’lord.” Jenny muttered nervously.

“You haven’t. I’m just a bit nervous.” Theon told her.

“Why?”

Theon struggled to find the right words, “I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave yet.” He said, thinking of the battle that lay ahead.

“I was on my way home, it’s not far. Will you walk with me?”

The light from inside the tavern lit up her lovely face, and Theon would’ve done anything she asked him to. He nodded his head, and she took him by the arm.

“Where are you going to go?” Jenny asked running her hand through her long curls, where the falling snow had dampened her hair.

“I’m going North, to Winterfell. There’s a war and they need all they help they can get.” He kept his gaze low.

“Is it true what they’re saying? About the dead men?” She asked.

“It is. They’re real, and if we can’t stop them...” he trailed off, not wanting to scare her.

“You’re incredibly brave Lord Theon.” 

“Thank you, Jenny.” Theon smiled shyly.

They’d stopped walking in front of a building, Jenny walked up the steps just outside. 

“Come in, I want to show you something.” She opened the door and pulled Theon inside. 

He followed her up a staircase and waited as she fumbled with the door. When she got it open, she led him inside. The room was small but the ceilings were high. Jenny moved a curtain to one side, moonlight streamed in through a large window looking out over the Blackwater Bay. Jenny walked into a room and returned with a small square in one hand, and a lit candle in the other. She held out the square for Theon to take.

It was a painting of the Blackwater Bay, the same view from her window. The sun was like a blooming yellow rose, giving life to the water that lay below it and illuminating the clouds above with a soft glow. She’d painted the rows of buildings that were in view, and she painted the sky a muted blue and blurred it with soft pink tones. 

“I painted this a few days ago when that storm passed. I thought back to the long summer, how some days were so hot I’d go swimming in the bay. Winter comes and sometimes we forget just how beautiful the sunrise can be. Don’t you think?” She smiled brilliantly at him.

Theon looked down at her, the moonlight danced in her red curls, “Aye.” He whispered.

Jenny trailed her hand down Theon’s neck. His heart thumped so hard in his chest, he thought she might feel it through his chest plate.

“I want you to take this with you. Maybe someday you’ll return and remember me.” She planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, I will be back someday soon.” He smiled, “And when I do, I’ll take you anywhere you wish to go.” 

Her eyes widened in excitement, and her pretty smile made his heart ache, “You mean that?” 

“I mean it.” He told her.

She laughed and pressed her lips up to his. She placed her hand on the back of his neck as she kissed him slowly. Theon’s eyes were open in horror, but he pouted his lips and let his eyelids fall shut. He put his hands on her shoulders and tilted his head to the side. She slid her tongue into his mouth and slowly moved it around his. He set the painting down onto a nearby table beside a stack of books, without looking. 

When they came apart they were gasping for air, Theon shook his head slightly and blinked the forming tears away from his eyes. He had to tell her about his mutilation, she needed to know he could never give her what she deserved.

“I- we shouldn’t, I’m so sorry... I can’t-“ he muttered.

“It’s okay, Theon” she untied the strings to her shirt, and pulled it off, “I want you to think of me the whole time you’re away.” 

Her tits were full and perky, she had soft pink little nipples. Desire shot through him like a bolt of lightning, if he were still whole he would’ve been so hard. 

“I can’t Jenny,” a tear escaped, “I haven’t got a cock.” 

She winced, her hands remained on his shoulders, but her gaze fell to his pelvis. She struggled for words and released a breath she’d been holding. 

“I could take you wherever you want to go, but I could never give you a family, I could never” He paused, “Please you in that way. I’m broken and defiled, and you’re gorgeous and perfect.” His voice was shaky with shame.

Her head snapped up at him when the words left his mouth, “That’s not true. I was born a bastard, my mother died giving birth, so I grew up in the brothel where she worked.” She hung her head and her voice became just a little more than a whisper, “When I was of age I worked there for a few years myself. I was able to save up enough to live on my own, so I left. Now you see why that man you fought the other night called me Penny Jenny. The men who remember me from the brothel think they can do whatever they please with me, whenever they feel like it. I’m not perfect, nobody is.” She smiled and lifted her brows, “And I can think of a few ways you can please me.”

Theon’s heart swelled, and in that moment he fell deeply in love with this sweet woman. They kissed deeply and she stepped out of her skirts, leading him to her featherbed. 

She threw him down on the bed and pulled off his tunic, she paused to look at the scars on his chest. She trailed her hand down his arm and placed his hand on her cheeky arse. She pressed her tits to his face and he kissed and sucked, breathing in her scent deeply. She moaned softly and brought his other hand, with the missing pinky, up to her mouth. Jenny’s nipple slipped out of his mouth when he opened it to explain the missing finger, but she pressed her mouth against his aggressively. And when they came apart, she looked him right in the eyes as she slid his fingers into her mouth and lightly sucked. She massaged his fingers with her tongue and continued to moan and suck him gently. Theon kissed every inch of her neck, feeling for the first time in a very long time like he wasn’t some creature unworthy of love. 

She pulled his fingers out of her mouth with a final suck, and she led his hand to the slickness between her thighs. She moaned in pleasure as he rubbed her with his fingertips. They kissed hard and fast now, and Theon thrust inside of her rhythmically. He kissed her one more time before kneeling down on the floor and pulling her to the edge of the bed. He sped up and her back arched when he flicked her nub with his other fingers. She breathed and moaned faster, calling out to the Gods until she finally came apart in his hands. She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up to her, kissing him all over. He melted into her bosom nestled in between her perfect breasts. They breathed deeply, holding each other tightly. He wished fiercely that he never had to let go of her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Theon walked back to the tavern, looking up at Jenny one last time. She watched him from her window and blew him a kiss. Theon looked down at the painting feeling like a brand new man, he walked right up to their table and shouted, “Let’s go save our Queen!!” 

“Aye!!” They shouted, guzzling down what was left of their cups. 

Theon led the men to the Inn they were staying at and they picked up their weapons. They walked down to the Blackwater Bay and stole a row boat that had been tied there. He gave the painting to one of the older men that was on his way to the island to ready the ship, “Please take care of this.” He asked him. The grey haired little man nodded his head in agreement, taking it and wrapping the painting up in a cloth.

Once all the men were ferried to the beach across the Bay, they all grouped together and went over the plan once more.

“Bomar you lead twelve around through the East gate, I’ll lead the rest through the North gate. We know they out number us, so we keep quiet. Take their armor if you can so we can roam freely and once we find Yara, we leave. We are to meet back here in exactly one hour, before the next group of gold cloaks show up. Then we row to the island where we’ve sent a few of our own to ready the ship.” 

Theon looked around at them, they were ready, “Lets go!” He unsheathed his sword and led them up the path to the North gate.

Once the gold cloaks were in sight, Theon’s men crouched in the bushes around the path. Theon placed his sword in between his arm and his torso, so he looked as though he’d been stabbed. 

“Help!!! Please somebody help me!!!” He screamed, the gold cloaks quickly ran to him. He fell to the floor shouting, and watched as Bomar led the others in the shadows, behind them. There were four guards halting to a stop, “What is your name boy?” One of them asked as he placed his hand on Theon’s shoulder.

Theon thrust his blade through the man’s neck, he gurgled on blood as he dropped to the ground. The sound was horrible, Theon knew they’d have to kill their way in. Just as Yara had done for him once. 

“Stay right where you are!!” One of them shouted. The group of Ironborn that Theon led leapt out of the bushes and started to pummel the remaining three men. At the gate, a guard stood watch from a tower. Theon saw him move to notify others, but stopped short when he was shot in the back repeatedly with arrows. Theon looked at his archers with relief, before taking the armor off of the man he’d just killed. His body was still warm. He put on the armor along with three other men. They made it in through the North gate and started to roam the halls. Theon quickly ran up a staircase and looked around for any idea as to where the dungeons might be. Bomar charged out of a doorway and fought a guard. He threw his axe into his chest, while blocking a swing from the guards’ sword, with his shield. 

“Bomar!” Theon yelled, Bomar looked up at him and motioned for him to join him.

Theon jumped down the steps to and was stopped by a guard, asking him to help restrain one of Theon’s men. Theon took the guards helmet off and rammed his forehead into the man’s nose. His eyes rolled back and he thumped to the floor. Theon noticed the gold cloak was holding a crossbow, he picked it up and threw it over his shoulder as well as the sling of arrows.

“I found the dungeon we’re working on bursting through the door.” Bomar had a gleam in his eyes like Theon had never seen before. 

“No need to break it down, I’ve got the keys!” Theon told him. 

They ran through the door and were met with a fight between the guards and the Ironborn. With a growl they charged into the crowd, Theon dodged the swing of a sword and thrust his blade into a man’s back. The blade got stuck in the guards armor and Theon felt a cold hard jab in his rib cage he looked down at the sword sticking out of his torso. As the guard struggled to pull his sword free, Bomar cut the his head clean off with one swift swing of his axe.

Once all the gold cloaks had been defeated in the hallway, Theon pulled the sword out. He felt his hot blood trail it’s way down his side, beneath the armor. He grabbed a ring of keys that he’d taken off a dead guard. He tried them all and finally one of them went with ease and clicked with a twist. The first level of the dungeons held many commoners, Theon yelled out her name,  
“Yara!!”

The prisoners shouted, begging him to let them go. The cells were tall steel bars, narrow windows lined the walls. Theon quickly ran through each cell door an released them, it would help to have more men on their side.

Theon ran down a long winding flight of stairs, Bomar and a few others followed closely behind him. He opened the doors to the second level of the dungeons, only the doors were made of steel bars, there were no windows. The cells had narrow feather beds and tables. There weren’t many prisoners, and the few that Theon freed were well dressed high born nobles.

“Has anyone seen Yara Greyjoy?” Theon shouted, briefly wondering how much time was left. 

“Haven’t seen anyone pass through here in some time.” A dirty little man told him, before darting off.

Theon looked at Bomar, his chest heaving and his face covered in blood and sweat, “We should keep moving.” Bomar said, running ahead with a grunt.

Theon followed him down the long winding stairs, they each grabbed a torch as they descended lower into the dark. He unlocked the door to the third level of the dungeons. There, two men sat in chairs at the entrance of the hallway. One of the was asleep, the other looked at Theon and nodded. He must’ve thought he was a gold cloak, until he got a look at Bomar grizzly and growling with a bloody axe in hand. 

“Who are yo-“ the guard began, when Bomar knocked the air out of him. He fell to the floor, blood spilling from his lips.

The other man jerked up and drew his sword, Theon quickly thrust his blade into the weak spot of the man’s helmet. His blood squirting out into his face, he pulled his sword free and turned to look at the sound coming down the hall. He struggled to hold the torch with his bad hand, so he threw it at the fast approaching guards. 

Three more charged down the hall wielding their weapons, “Surrender! We’ve notified the guards of the next level they’re on their way here!” One of them shouted.

Theon glared at the two men, already halfway down the hall. With a look to Bomar and the others behind them, they all shouted in unison as they charged at the guards. Metal clinked together as they met, Theon pulled his shield over his back just in time to block a long sword from piercing to his chest. As Theon stuck his sword into the shoulder of the man before him, he watched a group of more guards burst through the door. He tried to twist his sword free, but it was stuck there. So Theon bent down to take the man’s sword, he stopped short when he felt a chilling pain shoot through his belly. The armor had stopped it from going all the way through, but it still hurt to move. 

Theon grunted against the pain of the guard trying to pull his sword free, he thrust the sword in his hand up into the air. Theon knocked the guards helmet off before he grabbed the hilt of the sword he was holding a above his head and swung it down, cutting off the guards head. Blood squirted in every direction, and the guards approaching slowed at the sight of it. Bomar boomed a deep rumbling laughter as blood splattered across his face. 

Theon quickly pulled the cross bow he’d stolen around his arm and loaded it quickly. He aimed at a guard and shot him right in the head, he fell limp causing others to fall over his body. Theon reached for another arrow and loaded it, aiming at the weakest spot of their armor which was around the neck. He shot one down, and reached for another arrow.

“I’ll take it from here!!” Bomar shouted, a terrifying smile spread across his face.

Theon loaded the cross bow, and hung it on his arm. He saw that his men had already begun unlocking the doors to the cells, releasing the prisoners. Theon unlocked all of the doors around him, he pulled them open one by one, only finding the grateful faces of strangers. He ran further down the hallway, and unlocked another cell. 

He opened it and looked around the cell, nothing. He turned to leave, and stopped in his tracks. A smile slowly grew across his face, and his eyes filled with tears.

Standing before him, crouched into a corner with a sneer on her face holding the leg of a a table that she’d ripped off and sharpened, stood Yara. Her eyes searched his face in recognition and she dropped the wooden leg to the floor. 

“Brother?” Her voice trembling as she shook her head in disbelief.

Theon briefly remembered when Yara tried to save him. He remembered how hard it was to walk out of a place where he’d lost so much of himself. He looked at Yara, searching for missing fingers or scars. She had none that he could see. She wore a brown tunic stained with smoke and dirt, and green breeches with holes all over them.

“I- I was afraid, I didn’t want to be captured again. But I let you get captured and- I’m sorry.” His voice broke as he stuttered through his thoughts.

“There’s no time.” She told him, “You’re here now, that’s enough for me.” 

Theon released a breath of relief, before drawing his sword and limping out of the cell, “I found her!! I found Queen Yara!!” He shouted into the hallway. 

They cheered and ran to see her, she looked around at them her eyes welling up with tears of joy.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here!!” Bomar shouted lifting his axe overhead.

“Wait!” Yara shouted, “Ellaria Sand, shes still here we have to save her.”

“We don’t know if she’s alive, Yara we have to go.” Theon explained.

“You didn’t know if I was alive, yet you still came. She lost all of her daughters under our protection on our ship. When we were first brought here I used to hear the guards talking about how they go into her cell and take her whenever it pleased them. We are going to save her, or at least try.” She looked around at their uneasy faces, “As your Queen, I command it!” She shouted.

With a deep sigh, Theon picked up a torch and signaled them to follow. Yara smiled with pride and wrenched two swords free from the corpses of dead guards. Theon led them down the stair case to the fourth level of the dungeons, it was pitch black. 

The two men standing guard were quickly killed by Bomar. Yara took a ring of keys off a dead guard and they began to look for Ellaria. Theon ran all the way down the hallway, and unlocked the furthest door to the end of the dungeon. 

He opened it to find a body hanging limp on chains connected to the wall, he walked closer to it using the torch to illuminate against the blinding darkness. The smell hit him and Theon vomited when he came face to face with a gruesomely rotted, long dead corpse. 

He wiped his mouth clean and flinched when he was startled by another person chained to the opposite side of the wall. It was her, Ellaria Sand. She looked ghastly, bone thin and her eyes had an absent glaze over them. Her face was stained with fallen tears that had long streaked their way down her dirty cheeks. When Theon spoke to her, she didn’t respond. He knew all too well, that she had been broken, just like he had been. 

Theon swallowed down the lump in his throat, and shouted to Yara, “I found her!!! Someone come help with these chains!!” 

The room filled up with Ironborn men, they swung their axes and broke the chains that hung from the walls. Theon unlocked the shackles on her hands and feet. 

“What did she do to you?” Yara asked, her voice thick with sorrow.

Theon unlocked the final shackle off her wrist and she fell to the ground, Yara helped her to her feet. 

“Tyene!!” Her voice a faint whisper, Ellaria threw herself to the corpses’ feet, “Tyene! Tyene!” She sobbed, burying her face into the fabrics hanging off her daughter’s body.

Yara ordered them to free Tyene, they did so quickly and wrapped the corpse in the fabrics she was wearing.

As they made their way to the door of the cell, they heard the sound of barking and growling hounds filling the hallway. Theon poked his head out and spotted a group of gold cloaks, they led their hounds through a secret tunnel above them. There was a flight of stairs leading straight into the wall, but the guards were able to somehow open it up and walk through. 

“I know a quick way out, but we have to get past the guards and their hounds.” 

“Lead the way brother!” Yara shouted, helping Ellaria back to her feet. One of their men, Aggar, slumped Tyenes’ body over his shoulder. 

Theon kicked the door open crossbow in hand, and shot a dog right in its opened mouth. He loaded the cross bow again and shot another in the chest. 

Bomar swung his axe and sent two more yelping against the wall. He laughed as he threw the axe at the approaching guard. 

Theon fought off a skilled gold cloak, he was quick with his sword. A sharp pain in his ankle distracted Theon, looking down to find a hound biting into him. He looked back up and was knocked to the ground by the guard. Theon unsheathed his sword and hunched foreword, feeling the clink of a sword swing across the shield hanging on his back. He pounced up and stuck his sword into the gold cloak’s eye, pulling his sword out as the man slumped to the ground. The dog was still gnawing at Theon’s leg, he swiftly drove his sword into its back. Yelping an awful sound, with its final breath. 

“Keep moving!” Bomar grunted as he crushed into a chest plate with his axe.

They pushed through the tunnels where the number of gold cloaks dwindled as they moved through. They came upon more tunnels, and crawled through. Theon was the last one out, he helped Yara with Ellaria, who had taken some bites. They ran all the way to the beach where they saw a row boat filled with Ironborn men, rowing away. They were speaking of their victory with such passion, they didn’t notice their Queen shouting at them from the shoreline. 

“Please tell me we have another boat.” Yara asked.

Theon shook his head, red hot embarrassment stung his ears. He’d gotten them so far, and right when they were so close he fucked everything up. Theon felt his body shudder, failure crippled him to the ground. His knees soaked in water, “No.” he answered.

“The East gate has some near the walls.” Bomar said, rinsing his face and hands in water.

“Let’s go!” Theon heard himself say, lifting off of the ground, “Yara and Ellaria go with Garlen and Aggar to the East beach, the rest of us will bring the boat.” He told them, loading up the cross bow and readying his shield. 

With a nod to Bomar, they led three other men to the East gate. There were no guards posted at the entrance, but four stood watch in the tower above. Theon loaded his crossbow and shot one out of the tower, he screamed on the fall down causing the other guards to take notice. They lit arrows on fire and shot for Theon’s chest, he blocked with his shield hiding behind it to load up his last arrow. He shot another guard in eye, he stumbled out of the tower.

“Does anyone have more arrows?” He asked, they all shook their heads, “Shields up, keep moving!” 

They ran into the gate, blocking flaming arrows, inside guards lay dead on the floor as well as a few Ironborn. Bomar killed a gold cloak that was hiding under the row boat, together the five of them lifted the boat over their heads. 

The oars fell out and Bomar rushed to get them, “I’ll take more so we can move quicker.” 

They walked the boat through the gates, it wasn’t until they made their way down the path to the East Beach that they started to get shot at. 

The boat took some arrows, and Theon fell taking one himself. It pierced its way through his leg below his knee, Theon grunted in pain as he lifted himself back up. He looked back to see another man had fallen, he writhed in pain in the ground. 

Theon ran back under the boat and helped carry it all the way down the path to the beach, despite the burning pain in his knee as his bone scraped against the arrow. Bomar helped Yara and Ellaria into the boat, before taking notice to Theon’s leg. 

He moved to help pull the arrow out, but Theon stopped him, “There’s no time. Let’s go!!” He commanded.

Bomar growled through a chilling smile and tossed Theon into the boat before climbing in himself. 

Immediately after they had all gotten in they noticed the flaming arrows had damaged the boat. Water spurted in through the holes, they still had time... only not enough to make it to the island. Theon looked in the direction of the island where their boat awaited, forgetting he was on the other side of the shore he’d landed on. He spotted one of Euron’s ships, it was much closer than the island, and the lack of light meant there was no crew.

“There!” Theon pointed, at the ship, “Well take it to meet the others on the island.”

They quickly paddled to the ship, each of them had their own oar. They reached the roped ladder just in time for all of them to make it out of the sinking boat. For a time they all lay on the deck heaving from exhaustion, looking up at the sky. The air was chilly, and snow fell gently over them.

Yara jumped up and made her way to the helm, while Bomar and Aggar pulled the anchor. The sails were wrapped up, Theon climbed the masts and let them fall free. Soon they were moving fast along with the wind. 

After climbing down from the masthead, Theon slumped against a huge figure covered in a sheet to match it’s size. He grasped at the edge of the sheet to balance himself, but the pain in his leg from the arrow and the dogs bite on the other caused him to fall to the deck. Dragging the sheet off of the huge wooden contraption.

“A scorpion! Now we can return our gratitude to the Dragon Queen for being such a fine ally!” Yara laughed. 

They neared the island, docking their new ship. Luckily for them, the ship had its own row boat. They paddled ashore and were met with at least twenty Ironborn men, sitting around a roaring fire pit. It took some time for them to take notice, but as they watched Yara emerge from the darkness into the light of the fire, their chatter came to an end. 

Theon looked around at the surviving men, strangely enough they hadn’t lost as many as he thought they would. They now had two ships, and if Aggar was right, two scorpions. He found another one in the lower deck, complete with giant arrows. 

“I owe you all my life. I shall never forget what you all have done for me.” Yara told them, her voice loud and clear, “Let us stay on this island the rest of this night, and sail off first thing in the morning” 

They all cheered her name, and though Theon had planned on them leaving that very night, the idea of rest sounded so much better. He had taken some injuries, but it seemed they all had.

“Thank you,” Yara told Theon, sitting beside him against a log by the fire, “You saved me, Theon. I’m sorry that I ever doubted you.” 

They smiled at each other and Theon felt a warmth in his heart seeing his sister happy, before swiftly drifting off into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be crazy, it might take a while to write but I will update asap thank you for reading.


	14. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime does his best to fight against the creatures of the night. Jon finds that once again, he knows nothing.

**Jaime**

It was morning, they’d only get a few hours of sun, before the clouds would thicken and block it out again.

Jon led the march into the Gift, Jaime rode behind, with Yohn Royce and Ser Davos flanking him. They were wearing the same armor that all of the Northern forces had. The armor was sturdy and insulated, it allowed for better movement of the arms and legs. The Knights of the Vale and the men that Jaime had brought from the Riverlands were all given one, as well as the free folk and a few Unsullied. The Dorthraki soldiers in their leathers didn’t seem to mind not having armor, as they sneered at Edmure Tullys’ men, while they donned their armor over ringmail, before riding out.

Daenerys would follow on horse from the very back of the host, much to her mislike. During the strategic planning, she had been outraged that she wouldn’t be flying over the Gift setting it aflame as their first line of defense. Jon’s reasoning made sense even to her in the end, ‘We don’t know what we’re dealing with.’ The poor dolt, all but pleaded to her, ‘We attack from the ground, and when Viserion takes flight, you can do whatever you wish to bring him down.’ Dany pursed her pink soft lips, but reluctantly nodded in agreement. 

Jaime had gotten a look at her before heading out with the rest of the host. Shed been speaking with Tyrion, who would hang back by her side. She climbed on to her mare, looking quite stunning, her pale silver hair was partly pulled back in long thick braids, away from her face. She wore a sharply structured plated collar that gleamed when it caught in the light of the brazier nearby. The collar came with pointed shoulder plates to match, each plate was lined with bright shining rubies in the shape of the Targaryen sigil. Bright red plates, like rows of overlapping scales framed the edges. The rest of the coat that lay beneath it, was a dusky black color that looked like smoke. A long scarlet cape breezed in the wind, held down on one shoulder by the three headed dragon pendant that hung across her torso. She was clad in dark breeches that hid beneath her long coat and fine leather boots. 

The clouds thinned out and the warmth of the sun leaked through, he could feel it heating up his armor as it shone down on him. The host marched at a steady pace, aside from the sound of their footsteps, a hush fell upon them. There was no heraldry, as there were two clear sides, the living and the dead.

“It’s time.” Ser Davos shouted, as he slipped his helm over his head. 

Lances of the sun’s shining beams branched out over the icy cliff, glistening its light into thick blankets of snow all around them. The path they were following would lead them to the bottom of the cliff, and soon they would be in the clearing that lay before the Gift. 

“When we’re in the thick of it, giving up might feel like the easy thing to do. It is then when we must remember what we lose, if death wins!” Beric shouted at them.

“No more running, now we fight!” Tormund urged on, from beside him.

“Today we fight for the realm!” Jon’s voice echoed through the host. The clang of swords unsheathing spread though the massive army, “With me!” He yelled, as he charged around the cliff and into the clearing.

Halfway across the field, Jaime wondered where the dead men were, he thought he’d be able to see their glowing eyes in the woods by now.

The army of the living was huge, the sound of the horses galloping were almost like war drums. They rushed into the woods of the Gift and after some time, a change took place. Their horses’ breath came out in thick vapor, and Jaime felt a sudden chill smack against his face like a stinging slap. He thought it might be the shade of the trees in the woods, it would be cooler since the sun wasn’t hitting directly. 

But as they ventured deeper in, the tower of ice began to appear. Jon’s horse slowed as he looked up at it, they’d been surveying it for weeks now. Beric, Sandor, Yohn, Edd, Tormund and Davos slowed, as well as Jaime himself. The rest of their host continued to ride ahead, whooshing by them.

Jaime’s heart tightened as he watched in a silent panic what could only be the Night King walk out into the window of the tower he’d built, watching in the shadow.

“There he is!” Jon glared, he took a breath to shout something but stopped short when the Night King turned his gaze upward. 

The Night King was dressed in dark blue material, Jaime wondered what it was made of, thinking to himself he’d soon find out. His crown of ice stuck out around his head, and his skin was pale white. This was the first time Jaime had seen the Night King, after Roberts Rebellion and The War of the Five Kings, he thought fear was no stranger to him. But when the Night King lifted his long white arms above his head, Jaime came to find that he was feeling the same sense of impending doom that he had felt at the battle of Goldroad. When he heard for the first time, the chilling screeches of a dragon before it flew down and melted the flesh off of his men where they stood. The Night King held his arms apart, with his gaze cast up in the same direction. As he slowly moved them closer together, the sunlight that streamed through the trees of the woods were muted out and the wind began to pick up.

“It’s a trap!” Tormund grunted, he and Jon shared a wide eyed look before Jon removed his helm and turned to look at the passing host of men not even taking notice of the storm clouds closing in.

“We can’t stop until he’s dead.” Jon yelled fiercely, “Let’s go!” He donned his helm and led them through the trees.

As they continued on through the woods, the familiar sounds of steel clanging echoed through and they knew the fighting had begun. The sun was completely gone, now the only light came from the flaming arrows shooting across the sky above them. The tips of the arrowheads were made of dragon glass to ensure the kill.

They came upon the line being held against the dead. Northmen swung their blades through the horde killing them with ease from atop their horses. 

Jaime wrapped the reins of the saddle around his gold hand and circled around the horde, cutting down wights as he passed them using Widow’s Wail. The sky grew impossibly darker that it had been, he was glad that the dead were so pale as they could be seen even in this darkness.

Jaime heard growls and panting, thudding their way to the lines. Shock washed across his face as he watched a group of great wight bears and mounted dead men on their dead horses, charging at them. The awful whimpering of dying horses surrounded him, and soon there were three dead men half flesh half bone, crawling their way up his horse. 

One pulled at his leg, until Jaime slashed his blade across its face. It fell limp and drowned in a flurry of snow. He drove his sword through another’s side as it attempted to climb up his horse’s chest. Jaime felt one latch on to his back, he tightened his legs around his horse’s sides and swung his gold hand into the wights’ face, the piercing shriek it let out as it died, resounded throughout his helm. Just as it let him go, a huge snow bear sliced its razor sharp claws into Jaime’s horse. The horse cried out in pain shortly before the bear bit into its neck, blood ran down its white coat. 

Jaime pulled his legs up to the saddle and in one hard push, jumped off. He landed on the ground, where he was trampled by a few corpses. He crawled to a tree, using it as support to pull himself up. He blocked the swing of a rusted old sword, wielded by a wight in tattered wilding clothes. He pushed against the blade with ease and quickly swung into it’s arm. Thick smoke rushed out from behind him, he looked back and saw that the woods in front of the clearing from which they marched in on were set ablaze.

Why would Daenerys set the woods on fire? He thought, had the dead already reached that far back?

A Dorthaki warrior screamed as he fought off two wights, he moved quick with precision. He was joined by another screamer, they fought with smiles upon their painted faces. 

Jaime turned around and grunted against the impact of a huge bear, it’s mouth dripped with blood. Jaime lifted himself off of the ground, his chest heaving. The bear was busy ripping the screamers to pieces as Jaime cut into its shoulder. With its dying growl, the bear jabbed it’s arm causing it to fall over on top of him. Jaime ducked out of the way, but still the bear’s massive body landed on his legs pinning him down against the floor. 

Jaime put his hand on the ground, he felt a broken rumbling pace, each one stronger than before. He could hear the pounding as it neared. He looked at the tree beside him, snow fell from the leaves with each crashing stomp of the ground beneath him, burying him under a layer of snow. He dug his way out, still pinned under the bear. He was struck by old dull weapons, the dead had spotted him and he was glad to have his armor then as took hits from all over. He pulled his legs out from under the bear with a groan from the pain. A swift clinking of swords brought the surrounding strikes to an end. Jaime looked up at a gloved hand being held out to help him up. 

 

_____________________________________________________________________________ 

**Jon**

Jon’s horse was fast and as strong as a horse could be in the winter, after some bears broke their way through the lines he was surprised the horse still stood. He had been trying to find a way though to the tower of ice, the Night King would be there as well as Viserion. Who, Jon was glad, had not taken to the sky yet.

Jon noticed an impossible drop in temperature, soon after he heard and felt the heavy footfalls he knew exactly what it was, “Giants!!!” He shouted, “Hold the lines!!” 

They took shape out of the darkness of the woods, their beady little eyes were glowing a cold bright blue. Jon watched as the one before him pulled out an enormous javelin made of clear sharp ice from a huge sling on his back. He held it in one hand pulling it back, launching it into the quickly diminishing line. Dead and living men alike went flying in all directions. They pounded men into the ground with their fists and crushed them underfoot.

As the giant reached for another javelin, Jon rode beside him and cut his leg. He slashed it deep though his huge layered breeches, and across his shin. With a high pitched shriek the giant fell crushing everything around it. Jon pressed his heels into the horses’ sides, cuing him to speed up and lengthen his stride. The horse bolted away from the giant, narrowly dodging his huge pale hand, crushing everything beneath it. Jon looked back in disbelief that a small strike could bring down a wight of that size. 

He turned to look back ahead, and was met with a great big whack. Jon felt his whole body flying through the air as a giant swung its arm into the ground, knocking him off his horse. He thudded against a thick tree, he lost his grip on Longclaw and it slipped to the ground. His helm crashed against the trunk and it rang in his ears along with the clinking of swords and armor being struck. For a moment it was all he could hear, as he scrambled looking for Longclaw through the layers of snow that had felled from the tree he was thrown into.

He pulled off his helm to stop the ringing, tossing it aside. There were Northmen screaming in pain as they were ripped to shreds by bears, Dorthraki soldiers desperately holding their entrails in their hands, after being slashed across the belly. He watched as a giant tore a man in half throwing the pieces in opposite directions, Jon couldn’t tell whether the poor man was Dorthraki, Unsullied, a Northerner, or of the Riverlands. 

It makes no difference, Jon thought as he took in the horrific sights around him.

He found the wolf shaped pommel in the snow, and stood up. Leaning up against the tree, he walked around around it spotting a group of milky corpses striking at a living man where he struggled under a dead bear. Jon snarled as he swiftly struck across two of them with his blade, when they fell, the others took notice and charged at him.

Jon blocked a rusted scythe and kicked the dead man wielding it in the chest. He twirled his sword in his hand as he ducked down to dodge a spear, aimed for his chest. He cut through the stiff man’s leg, knocking him to the ground bloodless and limp.

The man pinned under the bear pulled himself free, struggling to get back up. Jon offered his hand, the man took it, steadying himself on the uneven surface of bodies and snow.

“Are you okay?” Jon asked.

He removed his helm, it was the Kingslayer, “Yes. Thank you, my Lord.” 

The next wave was upon them, Jon could tell when the freezing chill in the air rose. It became sharp and cut with each breath from within, like a million daggers made of ice slicing their way into his lungs.

“We need to push past the woods!” Jon shouted. They looked ahead, but stopped short when they heard a high pitched sound echo across the field, and watched a line of creatures ride into the edge of the clearing on their dead horses. Their skin was even more pale than the wights they commanded, and their eyes even colder, their hair fell in long, almost silver wisps. They had a calm sense to them, the kind that only death could bring. 

With a raise of their hands, every dead body on the ground rose up, ice cold eyes glowing bright blue. 

“Fuck” a voice rasped, Jon turned to look, it was The Hound, he and Beric gaped at the rising bodies.

“We have to find the Night King!” Jon shouted, “If we kill them,” he pointed at the mounted White Walkers, “The ones they’ve turned fall too.”

Beric sheathed his dragon glass dagger and pulled his sword out of its scabbard, setting his blade aflame with a cut to this hand. 

The wights followed their new commanders, and charged against the men they had been fighting beside only moments before. The ones who raised them from the dead, stayed behind to watch their new army from the edge of the woods.

Jon spotted a large boulder, “There!” He pointed. They fought their way through the dead, but not before a great snow bear jumped out from behind the huge rock. It prowled around them, “Looks like we’ve lost the Kingslayer!” The Hound shouted, as he watched the bear clench its jaws around Jaime’s arm. 

Jon kicked a snarling dead man in the chest, sending him hurling backwards into another. He ducked under the swing of a scythe, and cut through a dead man in a black cloak from the Night’s Watch, moving past it trying to help the Kingslayer. When he made it through, the bear fell limp at Jon’s feet.

”My name is Jaime, you filthy mutt.” He said, pulling his sword out of the bears mouth, along with his arm. His glove was ripped to shreds, exposing his solid gold hand.

Jaime and Jon shared a nod, and turned back to back, to clear the dead around the boulder stacking their corpses all over the ground. 

With a slight wave of their hands, we’ll be surrounded again, Jon thought as he climbed the large rock to help take down a giant. Someone must’ve gotten their blade deep enough to kill it, because it’s body came crashing down on a group of Unsullied soldiers, who were distracted in a fight. They weren’t wearing enough armor to save them from the crushing impact they’d surely suffered. The Unsullied were part of the third host, Dany wanted them near her in the march, along with the more of the Northern forces. 

Jon climbed atop the boulder they’d been defending, and looked across the field. He saw one of the White Walkers glaring at him, sending a chill down his spine. 

The creature pointed his huge ice javelin straight ahead, right in Jon’s direction. It let out a shrill scream, Jon fought back the urge to cover his ears, swinging his sword across a dead man’s frozen chest. The distance beyond the woods were suddenly lit up by swarms of glowing blue eyes.

“Seven hells” Jon whispered to himself, wondering what they would have to face next as there wasn’t much left to fathom after giant ice spiders.

Two dead men crashed into Jon pinning him against the rock he was standing on. He thrust Longclaw into one of them and quickly slashed it through another’s arm, their bodies fell on top of him. The battle had been raging on for hours now, his body would’ve been sore if he could feel past the numbing cold that continued to grow colder and colder. In one firm push he threw the bodies off of him, he looked around and saw that the spiders were all around, surrounding them.

One of the bigger ones effortlessly jumped up and pinned Jon against the rock. It snapped its four giant pincers in his face, Jon growled against the sharp pain in his side where a sharp leg had been driven into his armor. He plunged the top of his sword into the side of its enormous body and used both legs to kick it back into the sea of death, grunting in pain as the leg pulled out of his side along with the massive spider down the hill. 

Jon turned around and saw three more ice spiders had reached the top of the boulder. He managed to kill one, but the other two knocked him over. He looked up and saw more spiders approaching, as the ones around him shot strings of ice around his legs. The dead would not stop rising, the White Walkers didn’t even have to move their hands anymore. Jaime Lannister had taken one of the giant snow spiders down, before getting knocked over as well. At the foot of the boulder Beric was so distracted fighting off a newly dead man in full armor that he didn’t notice a spider creeping up behind him, four pointed pincers were ready to snap. Beside him, Sandor cursed as a spider shot ice at his legs, binding them together. 

Jon lay there on the floor and relaxed his body for a moment, his grip on Longclaw loosened. For every dead man he killed, three more rose to take his place. All around him men were dying, men that he’d led there.

The shield the guards the realms of men, Jon reflected on the words. His thoughts drifted back to the night following Bran’s fall from the broken tower.

 

Jon had been training late that day, but he still wanted to pay Bran a visit. On his way to Brans bedchambers Ghost joined him, loyally padding along. Jon stopped in the hallway, just before the opened door and peered through. 

Ned held in his arms a sleeping Lady Catelyn, his eyes seemed a million miles away while he was lost in his thoughts. Lady Catelyn must have cried herself to sleep that night, her nose and cheeks flushed red as indication. Rickon and Arya lay on either side of Bran fast asleep, their sweet little faces so serene. Robb sat at the foot of Brans bed, his face full of worry, arms crossed. Theon sat on the ground his back pressed against the stone wall by the hearth. And Sansa’s mesmerizing voice filled the room as she sang of Prince Aemon the Dragon Knight and his forbidden love for Princess Naerys. He remembered how his heart fluttered at the sound of her singing, he couldn’t see where she was, but her voice was soft and melodic, like the harmonic strings of a silver stringed high harp. 

On the great wooden bed, Summer was snuggled in between Arya and Brans’ legs. The other dire wolves lay on the rug at the foot of the bed. Greywind, Shaggydog and Nymeria all piled on top of one another, while Lady sat and listened to Sansa sing, wagging her tail.

I don’t belong here, he thought to himself as Ghost padded into the room before him, to sit beside Lady. 

Just as Jon was about to turn and leave to his own bedchamber, Sansa appeared in front of the doorway. She was still signing as she smiled and took his hand, pulling him into the room. She closed the door behind him and knelt beside Lady. She combed out her soft coat, humming to herself as the song came to an end.

 

Jon’s grip on Longclaw tightened as he rose up and fiercely pierced it in between a giant pair of pincers, that were aimed for his neck. He pushed through the exhaustion and pain thinking only of what would be lost, if death were to win this war. Jon rushed to cut himself free of all the ice webs that were wrapped around his legs, as a snow bear spotted him from atop a giant’s corpse. It quickly pounced onto the top of the rock where Jon lay. Mid screech, the bear fell backward as an arrow exited through its open mouth. 

When it fell, Jon looked across and saw Tormund standing where the bear had jumped from, a huge smile on his face. He jumped across and shot an arrow into a spider that had been snapping at Jaime, he shot it right in its blue glowing eye, “Dragon glass arrow tips,” he pulled one out of the sling strapped to his back and kissed it.

“There!!” Jon shouted, as he pointed his sword at the long haired commander. 

Tormund shot an arrow, judging by the screech the creature let out, it must’ve thought that it would be an ordinary arrow. It froze stiffly before breaking into pieces, like broken glass shattering around the dead horse it had been sitting upon. Every wight under its command, spiders, bears and giants alike were killed along with it, leaving a clear path into the woods. 

Tormund shot at another White Walker that was nearby, he missed as it retreated back hiding behind trees. Jon leapt off the giant rock and led the four men across the clearing, a speeding ice javelin crashed into a tree beside Jon’s head, he turned to look at the White Walker that had thrown it. It was already drawing back another, Jon jumped out of its way as it impaled the snow by his feet.

Jon charged at it, swinging his sword at its head. The White Walker quickly observed Jon’s sword, as it blocked the swing with its razor sharp javelin. It gave him a chilling glare that was almost mocking. Jon pushed back and twirled his hilt in his hand as he spun across the distance between them swinging his blade into its bony frail arm. It quickly froze up, and cracked into shards of pale ice. 

“Let’s get to the tower!” Jon shouted to them, “Keep your weapons ready!” 

“Go then! Well hold them off!” Sandor shouted.

The White Walkers were charging into their direction. They were on foot as they approached, flipping their javelins with skillful precision. 

Javelins whizzed by, narrowly missing them. Jon ducked out of the way and rushed through the remaining trees, out of the woods. He was the first of their forces to reach the frozen shores of the Bay of Seals. The tower that the Night King had built, was so much larger than he’d expected. Surrounding the bottom of the tower was a massive crowd of wights. They stood there motionless, eyes cast forward. Standing at the top of the tower stood Viserion, aside from a couple of screeches, he stayed in that spot. A path to the tower cleared, when the crowd that had been blocking moved aside. Four White Walkers approached Jon, the two closest to him began to spin their javelins. In one swift move, they swung at Jon, he blocked them both at the same time with his sword. 

One of them was instantly struck by an arrow through the eye as it froze in place, Jon quickly pushed back against the other one’s long clear javelin with his sword. The White Walker snarled as it swung at him again, Jon ducked out of the way and struck the creatures’ shoulder. As it froze up and cracked into pieces Jon heard a thud behind him.

When he turned to see what it was, he saw it had been the Night King. He had jumped out of the balcony they’d spotted him on earlier. He stood tall, flanked by the two remaining creatures guarding the tower, and behind them at least twenty more White Walkers marched their way out. They moved to attack, but their King waved them off. Stopping in their tracks, and standing at attention with their spears in hand. 

For a moment, Jon was frozen in terror but he choked it back as he stood in his fighting stance ready for anything. The Night King reached for his javelins, pulling them out from behind his back, and spinning them skillfully in each hand. He swiftly blocked a dragon glass arrow that whizzed by, it clinked against the ice, falling to the floor beside him. 

“What do you want?” Jon heard himself ask.

The Night King continued to spin his javelins, turning his head in curiosity, it seemed. His skin was almost like that of his loyal servants standing behind him. It was so pale white, that it almost looked blue, his features were pointed sharp and frozen into a menacing look. The shoulders of his coat were pointed, just like the crown of spiked ice, protruding out and around his head. 

He let out a powerfully deafening scream, his faithful warriors raised their arms behind him. Skeletal dead things rose from beneath layers of snow which had fallen around the tower. Viserion let out a screech followed by a stream of blue flame. 

Everything happened quickly, first undead Viserion leapt off the top of the tower and circled the area. Jon heard his men behind him fighting their way through the surrounding madness, he charged at the Night King viciously swinging at him. Their weapons clashed over and over again ringing along with the sea of the growls and snarling of the dead. Dragons screeched over head, it was pitch black, but still the flames streaming across the sky lit up as Daenerys rode on Drogons’ back beside Rhaegal, bathing the blue dragon in flames. 

The Night King suddenly jumped impossibly high, Jon staggered back glaring up at him. With a swift throw, the Night King hurled a javelin aimed for Jon’s chest down at him. 

Jon ducked narrowly out of the way, he was lifting himself off of the ground when he felt the stinging pain of the other javelin impaling his left shoulder into the snow where his blood dripped off the tip. The metallic taste of blood filled Jon’s mouth when it was pulled out. The Night King kicked Jon, knocking the wind out of him. He went crashing into a tree which had been frozen solid.

Jon spat blood out onto the snow as he stood up, the Night King slowly approached, when closely behind him Daenerys encased his army in a blaze of dragon fire, setting off the piercing screams of the dead as they burned.

The Night King turned to Drogon, flapping his wings in place as he breathed his fire at the base of the huge tower. Jon seized the moment to grab his sword, as the Night King pulled the javelin back over his shoulder. Jon thrust Longclaw into his back, he screamed and doubled over grasping the blade with both hands. Jon quickly pulled the sword out and ducked around him, piercing through his chest again, holding him against the ground. Jon stabbed a shard of dragon glass into his heart, the Night King stopped struggling and reached to grab Jon’s face in his hand. The shard of dragon glass had been growing colder from the moment it touched his skin, it was now cracking from the immense cold. Jon felt the Night King’s hand on his face, his touch was freezing cold. The dragon glass shattered around Jon’s hand, cutting through his leather glove. Jon pushed away from him, immediately feeling the lingering tingle of his frozen touch fade away.

Jon felt a crushing sense of defeat, as he watched the Night King stand up and screech into the sky. A flurry of blue wind flew down a few steps behind him as Viserion landed. Jon darted through the woods which blazed in red scorching fire, as well as blinding blue flames. 

Jon came across a dead horse, it’s eyes were rotted into the sockets and did not glow blue. Jon hopped on top of it, charging through the ash and snow with Longclaw in hand.

Jon watched as the Night King climbed on to the dragon’s back and bolted into the sky. He bathed the part of the woods where Jon ran. Flames danced across the sky, and in one moment both dragons unleashed their fiery fury against each other. Fire and ice met in a blinding clash in the sky. Jon heard a screech nearby and as he neared it, he gasped in shock at the sight of giant spiders shooting their webs across the green dragon’s great wings. Jon leaped off the horse and swung at the surrounding spiders, he freed one massive wing from the binding strings of ice. The dragon flapped his wing in an upward motion and breathed flames all around, melting the spiders to dew where they stood. He broke through the icy webs and took to the sky, Jon noticed thick strings of ice that hung down within his grasp. He stuck his sword back into its scabbard and took hold of the thick web, climbing atop the dragon. He held on tight to the webs as Rhaegal flew across the field, back in the direction of Last Hearth. Jon looked down at the woods of the Gift. Corpses lay across the field, he looked back over his shoulder at the White Walkers putting out the fire that brought the tower of ice crashing down around them, with a simple wave of their hands. 

Rhaegal landed on top of the cliff looking over the Gift, Jon jumped off slumping to his knees. Long after Rhaegal had jumped off the cliff to fly South, Jon remained looking out at the remnants of the battle, wondering how many men they had lost.

He could hear the clumping of a horse’s hooves approaching him, Jon turned to look at the rider. He was relieved to find that it was Ser Davos, his nose swollen and bloodied, limping more than usual. 

“Davos, send word to Winterfell. Ride there now, and tell them what has happened.” Jon said, his voice thick.

“What should I tell them?” Davos asked.

“Tell them-“ Jon sighed, “Tell them that I’ve failed them. And that the Long Night is here again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been really busy dealing with some stuff, sorry about the long wait, thank you for reading.


	15. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys reflects on her losses and contemplates her next move.

**Daenerys**

As Dany flew back toward the castle, she looked down at all the bodies that lay sprawled across the clearing and woods of the Gift. There was no sight of Rhaegal in the dark sky, not even the sound of his cries. He must be close by, she thought. Drogon landed with a thud on top of the cliff where Jon stood with his face twisted into a scowl as he looked down at the chaos below.

“Are you okay?” He asked, when she approached, turning to meet her gaze, “What happened?”

“A spider grazed just under my knee, it’s little,” She paused, “Nothing serious.” Her heart fluttered in her chest as she held his gaze. She couldn’t say if it was from the thrill of battle, or from the way Jon looked at her with his warm, kind eyes shining through the darkness of the night. They caught against the silvered gleam of his armor, illuminated by the fires blazing through the dead beneath them. 

“I thought I could stop him, Bran told me that dragon glass to the heart is what made him. We thought it would kill him as well” His gaze fell down to the massive flames and sighed, “We were wrong.” 

“I tried to stop him, Drogon bathed him in fire, but it didn’t have any effect on him. Then he flew North on Viserion, I don’t think he’ll be back for a long time. That’s got to count for something doesn’t it?” She gently placed a gloved hand on his armored shoulder.

“No.” Jon turned to meet her gaze, his brows were furrowed and his face took a strange look, “He’s only just begun, he’ll be back soon, and now he knows we don’t have any way of stopping him.” 

Daenerys recognized the look on his face from the Dragonstone caves, when she told him she’d only join him, after he bent the knee. It was the look of defeat, the look of a man who had lost all hope. 

“When I return, we will be ready to fight him again. And this time we will win.” She gave him a reassuring smile.

“Return?” He asked in confusion.

Just then, Tyrion reached the top of the hill where she stood, “Your Grace, might I have a word?” 

Jon nodded at her, she turned and walked along the great icy cliff beside Tyrion. He had stayed on the edge of the battle with her, helping to fight off any of the dead that got through.

“My Queen, I’m glad to see you’ve returned safely.” He stammered through his words, “I wanted to be the one to- inform you-“ he stopped and took a deep shaky sigh.

Dany could see that he was nervous, “What is it?”

“It’s our forces, your Grace. They’re still returning from the battle, but it seems we’ve lost a great many.” He kept his eyes low and his voice quick.

“How many?” She asked.

“As of now, close to three thousand Unsullied have reported back to us.” 

Dany stopped in her tracks, “And my blood riders?”

“We’re still counting of course, but we were nearing forty thousand who have returned.” He looked up at her, dropping his gaze back down to the snow after meeting her gaze for a moment.

“Why so many? I made sure that more of our men were evenly distributed throughout the host.” She could feel the fire in her belly rising.

“Our forces were great in numbers, but they were not accustomed to these harsh Northern conditions. Rationing resources has made our horses weaker and slower, the Dorthraki are at their best on strong horses. We’re quite fortunate enough that our Northern allies were kind enough to share their food stores, with out them we’d have probably lost all of our horses altogether.” 

She’d been looking down at the woods, her silver locks lashing into the air around her. She saw grizzly Northmen running out in groups, yet none of her own men seemed to find their way out in all the time she had been watching.

“Are you telling me that I’ve lost half of my army?” The fire had reached her throat and was ready to shoot out in fury.

“I’m afraid so, I’ve sent three parties out to scout for any wounded survivors who might be stranded. If they can’t move, they could very well freeze to death.” He looked at her with the smallest hint of a smile, “You still have the largest army in all of Westeros, your Grace. You still outnumber Cersei, and once the-“ he began.

“Do I? Your sister vowed to help us fight, why did she send another house’s army?” 

“I know you’re up-“ he shut his mouth the moment he heard Dany speak again.

“I was there on the Goldroad. I know some of the Lannister army got away, I don’t believe they’re all gone. I can’t help but wonder if there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

“No- your Grace, I am your Hand. I would never-“ 

“No.” She took a few steps, and turned back, “You will never, because if I ever find out that you’ve kept anything from me, I’ll burn you alive. Just like I did to Varys.” 

She marched down the hill leading to the edge of the cliff, her eyes narrowed as she stomped to a nearby horse. She mounted it, not caring who it belonged to. She needed to get back to the castle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The moment she shut the door to her chambers, she allowed the welled up tears to fall. No one could see her this way, broken and beat. Never again, she’d sworn. I must be strong, for my people. The ones that remained, at least.

The Night King has destroyed half of her forces and stolen her dragon. All this loss, when there was still a war to be fought. The tears stopped falling, and Dany felt her hands clench so tightly, it hurt her wrists. She felt a warm pool of blood collecting where the cut on her leg gushed out blood, it made her breeches stick to the wound. 

She peeled them off her legs and cleaned the blood with a wet cloth, cringing against the sting. She wrapped it tightly, pulled a pair of loose fitting woolen trousers up to her waist and stepped back into her boots. 

Missandei suddenly burst into the room, “Your Grace!” She hugged her tightly.

She let go of Daenerys, taking notice of the tear streams drying against her cheeks, “My Queen, are you hurt? What is the matter?”

Dany took a deep breath, “I’m perfectly fine, thank you. And Grey Worm, have you found him?”

She instantly smiled so beautifully it almost made Dany smile.

“He made it back in one piece, a little scratched up, but alive. I must thank lord Jon, it was so kind of House Stark to give us what little amour they had to spare. With out it, I don’t know if he would’ve made it back to me.” Missandei’s voice quivered as though she were fighting back tears of her own.

“Well, you’d best do it quick.” Dany said, hating how sharply it came out.

Her gorgeous almond eyes drifted away in confusion, “I apologize my Queen, I don’t understand.”

“I’ve lost half of my army in this battle. I plan to march what’s left of my men to Kings Landing. I will lay siege to the city on the ground, and take the Red Keep from above.”

A moment of silence hung between them, finally Missandei spoke again, her voice was tight and meek, “What about the Northerners?”

“They’ll need my dragons when the Night King returns. When the time comes they’ll bend the knee, I want to make sure I’ve taken the throne when it does.”

“My Queen, the throne is miles away from here.”

“Yes, I’m aware. We’re marching there and we are going to attack it full force, with two dragons and what little ships I have left. We’ll surround the city and take it.” 

“The Northerners have seen your strength, Your Grace. Are they not your people too- the throne isn’t going to be turned into a soldier for the army of the dead.” Missandei always had a way of speaking kindly, she was always mindful of her courtesies.

“Their loyalty will follow after I’ve taken the throne, if I stay in the North I could lose my entire army. I could help them more, once I sit on the throne. I’ll have Dorne and the Reach at my disposal along with the other five kingdoms.” Her voice rang through the stone walls of the room.

Daenerys could see that Missandei was having trouble understanding her decision. She wasn’t there when Dany had lost Drogo and Rhaego. She doesn’t know the loss and pain that had driven Daenerys on her path to take back what is hers. She doesn’t know the price she’d paid, to get this far. Missandei never knew Viserys, or the terrible ways he’d treat her.

“I’ve given everything that I had to give for it.” She whispered to her dearest friend, “My family, my happiness, everything.” She sniffed, “I can’t lose. It can’t all have been for nothing. The Northerners don’t want me to be their queen, so I’ll make them. I’ll make all of the seven Kingdoms bend the knee.”

Missandei’s tears brimmed on the edge of her eyes, “I choose to serve you, because I believe in you, My Queen. You have inspired me to be more than just property, you’ve inspired me to be- a person. Grey Worm, Jorah, Tyrion, all of the men who sailed across the narrow sea... we all believe in you. Aren’t we enough?” Her voice trembled.

“Of course you are. That’s why I want to let you know, that you’re free to go. You and Grey Worm can go wherever you want.”

Missandei stood up and paced to the window, peering through to the courtyard, “What of the wounded, my Queen, will you send them back to Essos?”

“All of the forces I have left will be needed to defeat Cersei, those who can’t fight will stay in Winterfell until I return. I’m sure the North may not even see the Night King return for many moons.”

“I see.” Missandei said.

“What would you have me do?” Dany asked, growing weary of the discussion.

“Come back to Dragonstone. We were happy there, by the sea. We can make it our home, is that not where you were born your Grace.?”

“Forgive me, Missandei.” Dany hardened her tone, “I came here to avenge my family, and take back what was stolen from us. I’ve been used, and betrayed. My brother sold me to buy himself an army and threatened to kill me. I saved a witch’s life, and she thanked me by killing my son and husband.” Dany had drawn strength from recounting her betrayals, “I have grown tired of being used, I’ve tried compromise, I’ve tried to show mercy and love. None of it worked. Fire and Blood will.”

Daenerys took a deep breath and steadied herself, “I will not harbor any anger against you, if you were to leave. You’ve taught me more than I could ever have hoped to learn, you’ve been a faithful friend to me, and I have come to think of you as family.” She squeezed her into an embrace, it was nice. It was warm and sweet, something Dany hadn’t felt in such a very long time.

“You can’t release someone who isn’t being forced to serve. I choose to serve, and do as my Queen commands.” Missandei told her through a grin.

“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you.” Dany whispered, resting her head back into her chair. 

Missandei stood up and walked behind Dany, letting down her tangle of interwoven braids, “I thought the Night King would have been dead by the end of this fight.” She said, gently running her fingers through Danys long silver hair.

“I thought so too for a moment, I got a glimpse of Jon fighting him, but then I saw him get off the ground and climb onto Viserion.” Her voice faded.

“And what happened to Viserion?” 

“They both got away, I chased as far as I could but I had to turn back.” She looked up at the wooden beams above her, “That thing, was not Viserion. Not anymore. Drogon and Rhaegal would tear off pieces of him with their talons, and it did nothing. It wouldn’t catch fire, even with both of my dragons breathing fire at him.” 

Daenerys felt a knot rise in her throat, “What kind of mother allows something like that to happen to her children?” She asked, allowing more tears to trail down her face.

“There was no way to know that would happen. You should not blame yourself for things that are out of your control.” Missandei told her, as she wove together a thick silver braid.

Daenerys sighed, relived to have finally let herself mourn her fallen child.

“Jon has been very kind to us, your Grace. I think he may be a bit distracted with this fight, but he cares for you.” Missandei took a step back to look at the finished braids, all meeting together in a neat bun.

“I’d hoped the North would rally to my cause, if I could defeat Cersei fast enough we could have a greater army to fight against the army of the dead. Jon rejected ruling beside me, if only he weren’t so eager to rot on that Wall.” How could she have been so blind to agree to a compromise that weakened her army? Was it her feelings for Jon that had made her so blind?

“I’m sure he will help you, he is the last of your kin.” Missandei said.

“I expect we will see soon enough.” Dany stood up and took off her armored shoulder pieces and her plated collar, placing them down in front of her looking glass, when there was a knock on the door.

Missandei rushed to answer, it was Grey Worm, “My Queen,” he bowed, “Jon Snow has called for a meeting in the hall.” He told her, before giving Missandei the most gentle look Dany had ever seen on his face.

“Thank you Grey Worm.” She made her way out of her bedchambers, and led them down the hallway to the great hall. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the great hall, injured commanders and lords sat in the tables closest to the head of the hall. There was a table set up facing them, and Dany took one of the seats on that table. The hall slowly filled up with the conversations of the battle they had just fought. Jon walked in, and everyone fell silent. He was wearing his fur cloak, the one he never seemed to part with. His loose black curls were wet, he must’ve taken a bath as he was covered in smoke and blood when she’d last seen him on the cliff. He looked out at the hall, his expression was sullen and his voice thick as it echoed through the tall stone walls of the hall.

“You’ve fought very bravely, all of the Seven Kingdoms will hear of the bravery you’ve shown today. However, the fight is not over. It seems we don’t know much about the Night King, I tried as best as I could to kill him. I tried Valerian steel, dragon glass, Daenerys even tried to burn him with dragon fire.” A little wave of chatter washed across the room. “The Night King has fled on his dragon, we’re not sure when or if he’ll be coming back.” A wave of cheers rose up at the news, “The dead are still roaming, we were not able to stop them all. Edd here,” he motioned to a long faced man clad in black “Was there when the Wall fell. I sent him a raven telling him about the attack today. He journeyed here from the Wall, across the Gift. What he saw along the way is enough to tell us that this fight is far from over. When the battle had begun, Edd here reached the woods behind the clearing where the Night King had built his tower of ice. When the sounds of fighting began, he said that he and the brothers of the Nights Watch under his command, saw something that should worry us. It explains why the Night King hadn’t marched farther than the Gift for all that time.” The room was completely silent, and a sense of panic filled the air, “They saw the Night King‘s men return from down under the ice frozen over the Bay of Seals. They would send dead sea creatures up to the surface, well prepared with huge chains and all. Edd says that he had a row of them lined up along the icy shore where he had his army working to pull them out of the sea. Among the creatures were deep sea serpents, great whales, eels, and giant squid like creatures. They watched the Night King raise his creatures of the sea from the dead. Sending them off into the sea carrying White Walkers on their backs. Many brothers were lost attempting to stop them, and still most of them got away.” 

Jon stood up and paced the length of the table, “The Night King might have fled,” He briefly looked at Daenerys, “For now, but we know now that his servants, have not. They are on their way now to conquer these lands for their King. Now that the long night is here, they could go anyplace where land touches the sea.” Jon stood before them all now, “I’ve sent my most trusted advisor to Winterfell to send word of what happened here today. We are to march back there, and plan for the next battle. We can not hope to survive this invasion, if we can’t find a way to kill the Night King. We are to leave after we’re all rested.” Jon nodded to them, signaling the end of the meeting.

Daenerys quickly stood up and walked out, she heard her name being called in the hall, still she walked on thinking to herself as she neared her chambers. The cut on her leg stinging more and more with each step she took.

Jon will never allow for his forces to leave the North to fight for her in the South, she decided that she would march back to Winterfell with them. Once they arrived, she would have to find a way to make him see that she’s upheld her agreement to help fight the army of the dead. She’s fought, and now she must continue on her conquest for the iron throne. Many lives would be lost either way, she told herself. And she’d already lost too much. _If I look back, I am lost._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I appreciate it so very much. When i first started writing I didn’t know if anyone would ever read it or put up with all the plot holes I’ve surely written lol this fandom is the best and I just wanted to thank you for giving me a way to escape from my problems with this fic. 
> 
> I also wanted to share the link to the Women for Women International UK JustGiving donation page, where we can help real life women affected by war. In a story filled with the suffering of war, it is important to remember that this is really happening out there and if we can help, we should, that is how we make real changes and truly leave this world a better place than we found it. If you’d like to donate or help spread the word, here’s the link:
> 
> https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/jonsa-fandom
> 
>  


	16. The Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The army of the living drink on the road back to Winterfell

**Jaime**

The road was scattered with the dead. Snow seemed to fall from every direction, darting about in the howling wind. Jaime rode beside Beric Dondarrion along with a group made up of Dorthraki and Free Folk soldiers. They had been sharing horns of fermented goat milk for hours, it numbed their wounds, and loosened their tongues. Beric told them of how Jaime singlehandedly killed an undead bear with the help of his golden hand.

“I thought he was gone for good when the bear took hold of him.” He laughed, “Imagine my surprise when I saw the gold shining through shredded leather!” He briefly paused, “How’d you lose it?”

“The War of the Five Kings.” Jaime looked down at it, “How did you lose your eye?”

“Lannister soldiers, they couldn’t decide whether to execute me by hanging, or taking my eye.” He peered at him, his smirk fading into a grimace.

“So they took the eye.” Jaime presumed.

“No-.” He said, rubbing his neck as his brows formed a grimace across his forehead, “They did both.”

A small gasp escaped Jaime’s mouth, “I- I’m sorry.” He stammered.

Beric’s forehead smoothed, “It doesn’t matter, in truth, I don’t even remember their faces- I’m lucky enough to have found a maiden who doesn’t mind the missing eye.” 

“It seems I’ll be apologizing for the atrocities committed by my family for the rest of my life.” Jaime paused, “You’re married?”

“Married?!” He rumbled with laughter, “One doesn’t have to be married to be in love.”

“I know that-“ Jaime began to tell him.

“You’re in love aren’t you? With your sister?” Beric spoke loud and clear enough to turn a few heads outside of their group, he must’ve started to feel the effects that goat milk.

He felt every muscle in his body tense up, looking at Beric accusingly, shocked at his booming laughter. 

“Oh come on, all of the realm knows it by now.” he motioned to a grizzly Dorthraki warrior. The long haired man nodded at Jaime, thick shapely eyebrows arched over his dark eyes, “Even Malggo here heard of it all the way across the Grass Sea in Vaes Dorthrak, before the Dragon Queen burned down the temple and invaded their holy land-“

“Ojil” Malggo interrupted in a grunt.

“My Dorthraki is not the best,” Beric told Jaime. He looked back over at Malggo and asked, “What’s that mean?” 

“Wrong,” Malggo told him sternly.

Beric attempted the word, causing Malggo and the surrounding Dorthraki to boom with laughter, Beric himself joined in. They were much closer than they were when they’d first marched to Last Hearth. Jaime supposed that was what happened when they had to face the things they’ve faced.

“What would you call it then? Why leave the women and children? Are you even being paid?” Berics’ voice faded as Jaime strayed from the group, thinking about returning to Winterfell.

He pictured Brienne standing tall and proud through the snowy mist, atop of the wooden staircase in the courtyard. She would be wearing her armor, no doubt. She’d smile at him as he rode through the gates. 

The scream of dead men emerging from the woods beside the road where they’d been passing, pulled Jaime out of his thoughts. He quickly rode over and unsheathed his sword.

The others re joined the host and rode on, Jaime climbed off his horse to stretch his legs. He walked slowly falling back listening to a couple of Knights of the Vale talk to a red haired Wildling about the strength and bravery Jon Snow exhibited in the battle, anyone who was lucky enough to see him face off against the Night King spoke of his skill with his sword. The story was already being exaggerated. Jaime was glad to hear that he had re gained the respect of his men. Jaime himself had come to respect him, he earned every bit of it on the battlefield when so many others would’ve bothered only to save themselves. Jaime had doubted Jon’s ability to lead, but he proved that he was more than capable. He had to admit that he was even more capable that Jaime himself.

A carriage rode beside him, in the window Jaime could see his brothers face. He seemed upset, suddenly the carriage door burst open and Daenerys jumped out and stomped off.

Tyrion motioned to Jaime to join him in the carriage, with a sigh Jaime handed his horse to an Unsullied solider limping along the road. He accepted the horse with a nod, and Jaime jumped into the carriage. The door slammed shut after him and he sat across from his brother, who was already pouring a cup of wine for him.

“She didn’t seem too pleased with you.” Jaime told Tyrion.

“She is convinced that I’m keeping information about Cersei from her.” 

“Wait until she finds out that is exactly what you’re doing.” Jaime said before taking a sip of the tart berry wine. 

Tyrion gave him a weary look, “If the Gods are good, she never will.” 

“Well you are her most trusted advisor, I’m sure she’ll forgive you.” Jaime swished the wine in his cup feeling like a true Lannister, sitting in a luxurious carriage, drinking good wine.

“Actually, I’m afraid I’m not long for this world... Jaime there’s something I need you to tell Jon.” Tyrion told him, “It’s Daenerys, she feels she’s done her part in fighting against the Night King. She plans to march her forces to Kings Landing shortly after we arrive to Winterfell.”

“She’s leaving?” Jaime furrowed his brow and shifted in his seat, “We’ll probably be better for it. I have learned that the Dorthraki follow leaders with great strength. Is that still Daenerys?” He wanted to get a rise out of Tyrion.

“They would never, what’s more powerful than a dragon?” Tyrion laughed, he quickly switched back to looking nervously around the carriage.

“Why wouldn’t they? They’d have frozen and staved to death if it weren’t for House Stark.” It never took much effort to to incite a good argument from his brother.

However, Tyrion seemed too shaken to argue today, “I suppose food is power now, you’re right.” He shook his head, “Never mind that now- it doesn’t matter. If she finds out that I have been keeping news of Cersei’s army from her, or that I’m telling you her plans-“ Tyrion looked out each of the window beside him and cleaned the sweat off his forehead with a cloth, “I won’t be around to stop her from burning the Red Keep. I told her about the wildfire caches that were thought to have been left over from the days of her fathers reign, but she’s so certain only the castle will be harmed.” 

“Tyrion, do you really think we’re so stupid that we wouldn’t have found all the wildfire by now? I made sure anyone who knew about it was killed. I killed Belis and Garigus myself, and all the other pyromancers who knew.” Jaime felt his throat dry.

“Don’t you ever wonder what exactly I told Cersei that day in the Dragonpit to make her agree to the truce?”

“Seeing how I learned immediately after, that it was a lie... I’d say no, I never do.” Jaime drank deeply, moving to pour more wine into his cup.

Tyrion smacked his hand across Jaime’s, “Listen to me fool! You obviously don’t know!!”

Jaime smirked at his obvious frustration.

Tyrion sighed deeply and sat back in his seat, “I’m sorry, I just thought you’d like to know that Cersei confirmed the discovery of Aerys’ caches. In fact, she went on to tell me that Qyburn has found that the bottles of wildfire have grown increasingly more potent through the passing years. She threatened to use it, should we violate the truce. That means she has it in Kings Landing, enough to level mist if the city! That’s not even including the wildfire Cersei didn’t find. I asked her to refrain from using the wildfire, and in return I’d convince Daenerys not to use her dragons in the war for the iron throne. That way, we could wage war in the safest way possible.”

“No,” Jaime suddenly thought back to all of Cersei’s late night secret meetings with Qyburn, the afternoons spent scheming with the half witted Euron Greyjoy. _We’ll live as we were born, together._

“Is it so difficult to fathom Cersei Lannister could ever use any and all resources available to her, no matter the cost?”

“No, you’re right. She would, and she would do it with a smile on her gorgeous face.” Jaime said, his voice hoarse, “If Daenerys knows, and still does it, then she is just as mad as Cersei is.” 

“Daenerys is nothing like Cersei!” Tyrion scoffed. “She wants to use her power as Queen, to order forces available in all of the realm, here to fight in the North. Cersei will blow up the North just like she did the Sept.”

Jaime sat in silent understanding, poor Tyrion, “You love her don’t you?”

“What? Love her? No- no, I- I-“ he stammered, “I- I’ll... never be able... to truly be with her.” 

“That’s the hardest part isn’t it? Knowing that you’ll never be able to be with the one you love. Power changes that person, and you realize they’ll never be the same. That person you once loved- is gone.” Jaime sighed deeply before taking Tyrion’s cup out of his hand, and filling both of their cups to the rim, “What do you do when the only way to save the realm, is to stop the woman you’ve given everything to?”

Jaime handed Tyrion his cup and they clinked them together, “To saving the realm.” He said, and drank immediately after.

Tyrion hesitated for a bit, but in the end he slammed down the entire cup in what seemed like a single gulp. 

“Do you think Jon will allow us to stop her?” Tyrion asked.

Jaime laughed, “Jon will probably be glad to stop her.” 

Tyrion raised a brow in curiosity.  
“I always thought Targaryens were drawn to one another.” 

“Not all of them. If history has taught us anything it’s that two Targaryens coming together whether by love or hate, will result in fire and blood.” Jaime slurred a few words, making him realize he should put down the wine and find some water. 

Just then there was a knock on the carriage door as it came to a stop, Tyrion opened the door to a distressed looking Jon.

“Might I have a word with the Queen?” Jon asked, his chest heaving as though he’d been running.

“No. But, we’ll have a word with you!” Tyrion pulled Jon into the carriage and told the carriage driver to carry on.

“Seven Hells!” Jon shouted, “It stinks of wine and farts in here.” His face scrunched up and he moved for the door.

“Jon there’s something you need to know.” Tyrion told him, gaining his attention.

They told him all about Daenerys’ plan to attack Kings Landing, and Cersei’s wildfire cache. The look in poor Jon’s eyes was stricken with fear and rage. He looked out of the window and sighed, telling Tyrion and Jaime that he too had some news.

“I was looking for Daenerys, I wanted to tell her that Winterfell has fallen. I sent Davos to give word of our loss in the Gift. When he arrived there, he said that it was overrun with the dead, he said there must have been a siege carried out by the Golden Company. Not the full army, but enough to take it. Not that it matters, they’re all part of the army of the dead now.” 

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve found us first. Daenerys can’t know about the Golden Company, there’ll be no stopping her then.” Tyrion told him.

“We keep her in Wintertown. If she stays there when we take the castle back, we can clear out the bodies before she gets a chance to see.” Jaime said, “We’re there any survivors from the siege?”

“None that Davos could see.” Jon said solemnly.

“Your cousins?” Jaime asked.

“No sign of them, I’m riding there now with some men. Will you tell Daenerys I’ve gone?” He asked Tyrion.

“Of course, go.” Tyrion answered.

“I’ve ordered that we set up camp in Wintertown. I’m hoping they might know something, I’m going to stop there before riding to Winterfell, they could’ve fled there.” Jon said, moving to jump out of the carriage.

“I’m going too.” Jaime told them, the haze of the wine lifting.

“You’re drunk.” Tyrion pulled on his arm.

“I’m not asking.” Jaime pulled his arm back and opened the carriage door.

“Be careful that Daenerys doesn’t see you.” Tyrion whispered, before Jaime and Jon nodded. They jumped out of the still moving carriage and quickly jumped on the first horses they found.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jon’s men were at the head of the host, they asked no questions when they were ordered to ride full speed ahead of the others.

They passed through groups of the dead, their blue glowing eyes blurred by as they continued on. They reached Wintertown in what felt like a three hour ride, it was hard to know for sure with the sun gone. Sometimes the moon would be out, but at that moment there was only darkness.

Jaime had counted just a little over one thousand of Edmure Tully’s men who returned from the battle in the Gift, he immediately recognized the guards that were securing the road to Wintertown. They were the men Sansa Stark had ordered to hold Winterfell. 

“What happened in Winterfell? Why are you here?” Jaime’s voice sounded too tight and broken, he cleared his throat, “Tell us what’s happened”

“We were ordered by our Lady to escort her guests here. We were told hold the town and defend it.” He told them about the attacks that they had endured, they held the town against attacks from Golden Company and the dead. Soon, they started to see undead men of the Golden Company, “We were ordered to hold the Town, and that’s what we did.” 

“Lady Sansa ordered you to abandon the castle?” Jon asked.

“No, it was her sister Lady Arya.” The guard told them, “Not long after you left, Lord Bran woke up shortly after they gave the order.” 

“How many men did we lose?” Jaime asked him.

“Six hundred and fifty” 

Jaime nodded and turned to Jon, who went wide eyed and was silently going mad, “Jon, listen to me-“

“Did you see where they went? Who all went?” Jon asked the guard, his mouth curved into a set frown.

“No, My Lord- I did not.” The guard looked down at the floor.

Jaime grabbed Jon by the shoulder of his doublet, “We need to take back Winterfell, it sounds like they’ve scattered, it could be done quickly. Once we’ve taken it back we can find them.” 

“I didn’t leave enough men to protect them. I was so wrapped up in this war, and I couldn’t even stop the Night King.” Jon’s forehead was beading with sweat and his hand was flexing over his hilt, “This is all my fault!” He pushed Jaime’s hand off and started pacing back and forth.

“Guilt gets nothing done. Action does,” He stood in Jon’s path holding his craven gaze, “We will find them.”

Jon took a deep breath and nodded, they rushed back to their horses and led the attack to take back Winterfell.

 

________________________________________________________________________

**Jon**

Taking back Winterfell was a blur, he rode there in what felt like minutes. He can’t remember ever giving any orders, only riding in and swinging his sword at anything with those glowing blue eyes he had come to despise, even more than he already did.

If he’d been injured, he couldn’t feel it. He could only feel the thumping in his chest and their screams as they fell in piles below his blade. Jon was expecting to find a White Walker to emerge from the shadows of the courtyard with a long sharp javelin. He sought them out, bursting through every door in the castle. Every room had been destroyed by the Golden Company, Jon guessed. The castle was impossibly warm, compared to the freezing winds howling outside. The hot springs in the Godswood must have kept the walls too hot for the dead, as not a single one was found within the castle.

The bodies were cleared outside of the castle walls within the hour, Davos approached Jon who sat slumped over the top of the stairs in the courtyard. Jon ran his hand down his face in exhaustion, “There was no sign of them.” He told Davos once he was close enough to hear.

“A raven has arrived, for you.” 

He handed the scroll to Jon, it had a wax seal with a dire wolf sigil for House Stark.

 

 

Jon,  
Bran saw the Golden Company on the Kingsroad before they had a chance to attack. We are on the way to Greywater Watch, I will send another raven once we’ve arrived.

-Arya Stark-

 

 

Jon breathed a sigh of relief, he read over it a few more times wondering why there was no mention of Sansa. 

He stood up and paced down the stairs followed by Davos, “What is it?” He asked.

“Arya and Bran are on their way to Greywater Watch. They’re safe, they left before the attack.” Jon could feel his face twist into a snarl.

“That’s good news-“ Davos met Jon’s gaze, seeing the panic in them, “Isn’t it?”

“There was no mention of Sansa.” The bitter words dropped from his mouth as he handed the scroll to Ser Davos.

He read over it, scratching his grey beard, “I’m sure she’s with them, they wouldn’t leave her behind.”

“Then why not mention her name?! What if the Golden Company took her?”

“The men burning in a pile, outside the castle walls? I somehow doubt it, My Lord.”

Jon clenched his fists and looked at Davos with fire in his eyes, “I have to go.” 

He could hear Davos shouting his name as he made his way to the stables, he grabbed a saddle and made his way to the first horse he saw.

“Where are you going?” Jaime’s voice brought him out of the storm of thoughts in his head.

“Greywater Watch.” Jon answered.

“Why?” 

“I need to make sure my cousins are safe. I should’ve never left them.” He muttered as he tied the straps on the saddle.

“The host will be here soon, you must be here to greet them. What are they to think after watching run ahead of them without a proper explanation, you being gone will only make everything worse.” Davos breathlessly told him.

Jon stopped, the straps of the saddle hung from his clenched hands. 

“I must agree with Ser Davos.” Jaime proclaimed, “They look to you now.”

Jon wished they didn’t, he wanted to climb on that horse and ride until he reached Greywater. It seemed duty always found him when his loved ones needed him most.

 

 

 


	17. Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to pop off boiii

**Dany**

At last, Daenerys saw the torches in the little town up ahead. She rode beside Qhono at the very back of the host. A chilling scream cut through the howling wind, and with it came the dead. Qhono and his horse lord companions rode over and quickly struck them down. They were wearing armor, gold armor. It wouldn’t have held Daenerys’ attention, if they weren’t so familiar to her. Qhono ripped seven gold arm rings from one of them, along with his jeweled sword. He ripped off his golden chest plate and climbed back on his horse. 

Daenerys asked him if she could examine the plate, he handed it over. The plate was inlaid with jewels to match the sword, Dany wondered why it was so familiar to her. She asked Qhono if he recognized the armor that the dead men were wearing, he nodded and the words that he spoke awoke the sleeping dragon inside of her.

“Hoshor Jerakasar” he told her in Dorthraki, he looked at her face and asked if she knew who they were.

She handed the golden plate to him and ordered Qhono to set up camp outside the walls of Winterfell. 

“Ai tih khaleesi” he nodded his head and rode ahead to pass along the order. 

Hoshor Jerakasar, she remembered so clearly now. Viserys had once feasted them, he hoped they’d join his cause and help them return home. They laughed in his face and called him beggar King. They didn’t have any money at the time, Viserys hoped that promising them an end to their exile might be enough. 

It wasn’t.

The Golden Company had been hired and sent this far North. Daenerys felt her face flush hot as her anger grew deep from within. She turned her mare around and charged through the trees lining the Kingsroad. A part of her wanted to find Tyrion and burn him alive, he had to have known, he and Jon both. Another part of her, a much stronger part wanted to get away from them, from everything.

It had to be Cersei, she thought while the trees blurred by. Her mouth became dry and hoarse as her breaths became quick and heavy. She knew that her people would need her, she knew her duty was to be strong for them. Still, she rode on ahead as fast as the mare could manage.

Warm tears sliced their way out of her eyes and froze in their place before they could slide off her cheeks.

She heaved a trembling breath of mist, trailing behind her as she rode on. The mare’s hooves beat rhythmically against the snow matching the pace of her own heart pounding in her chest, each beat ringing through her ears strong and true. She believed every word Tyrion had spoken, she’d even let herself fall in love with Jon. She scoffed, clenching her hands around the reins as another pair of tears froze where they fell.

Just then, the horse neighed and quickly switched directions. Dany choked back a gasp, finding a group of dead men, one of them being a White Walker. He instantly threw a javelin right into the mares’ side, spilling blood all over the ground.

Daenerys was thrown off the horse when it bucked from the pain. She jumped up and ran to the nearest tree. She might’ve screamed out in fear, if she weren’t so furious at the pale dead thing. The White Walker calmly pulled out the ice javelin, flanked by endless pairs of glowing eyes. Just as he pulled it back to launch it at Daenerys, Drogon screeched from above. The White Walker looked up, and while he was distracted Dany swiftly ran past the trees into a small clearing. 

Drogon landed before her with another screech. She climbed on his back glaring at the White Walker, who was running now. His faithful group followed close behind in a stir of groans and growls, she saw the white haired man leading them come to a sudden stop and reach back for another javelin,

“Dracarys!!” She shouted. Drogons’ stream of fire flowed through the woods, melting the tears that had frozen on her face. Their glowing eyes went dark, all but one pair. 

The White Walker stood up, encased in fire. With the wave of his arms, he put out the flames all around him. 

Drogon took to the sky, taking his mother out of harms way. As Drogon flew up towards the stars over the misty clouds, Dany heard the javelin whizz by only just missing Drogon. She scowled down at the lands that stretched out below. 

She looked around, wondering where Rhaegal was. She hadn’t seen him since the battle on the Gift. It didn’t matter, she scratched Drogon’s neck rubbing her gloved hands against his scales. Drogon was always there in her time of need.

I could’ve taken the throne long ago, if I hadn’t listened to Tyrion. She thought. I put my trust in Jon Snow like a fool, and lost most of my forces fighting his war. I’ve done nothing but lose from the day I stepped foot on the shores of Dragonstone, all the while Cersei has managed to stay three steps ahead. 

No more, Daenerys bitterly told herself. Now it’s time for Cersei to lose, no more cleverness, no more schemes. 

Rage thrummed through her veins consuming the soft voices pleading for her to return to Jorah and Missandei. Those weak, soft voices would only stop her from doing what needed to be done.

She shifted into a more comfortable spot on Drogons’ back, as it would be a long flight to Kings Landing. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Theon**

He looked down at the cobblestone as he limped along the street, after rescuing Yara most of their men had been wounded. Theon had been hurt badly, though he did not feel the pain, he still had trouble walking. Yara had never been better, she was planning on stealing more of Eurons’ ships. She planned to take the strongest of their men and make off with as many ships as they could. They’d wait until the city slept, there would be less light then.

Theon wanted to visit Jenny one last time before they sailed off that night. He found himself outside of the tavern where she worked, his palms sweating from the excitement, or was it nerves? 

He peered in from the doorway, and stopped in his tracks. Sitting on the counter with her legs wrapped around some tall, blonde, well dressed man, was his beautiful red haired Jenny. She was kissing him slow and passionately. He remembered that she had kissed him the same way the night that she gifted him her stupid painting of this stupid city.

“Hello there, might we find you a place to sit?” A woman’s voice asked.

“No.” Theon told her without looking, “I’m leaving.”

He turned and all but ran out of the tavern. He could feel his eyes welling up and his heart felt like someone was squeezing the life from it. His palms were slick with sweat from anger now in his clenched fists.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I want to come with you.” Theon told Yara as she hopped into a row boat.

“No, I’ve told you. You’re not well enough yet. You can help by getting this ship out far enough to wait for us, without being seen.” She told him.

“Please, I won’t slow you down. I swear-” He pleaded.

“I’m sorry little brother.” She laughed, her eyes shined like the sea when the sun used to touch the surface of the water. “You know, you’ve come a long way from being captain of the Sea Bitch. I’m proud of you Theon. You’ve taken your life back. And I couldn’t think of a better way to get revenge against that cunt who broke you.” Her wide, carefree smile nearly made him smile in return, but the hurt in his heart wouldn’t allow it. Yara sat down beside Bomar as the row boat was lowered down into the sea.

Theon called for the sails to drop, the wind caught and sent them further and further away from Kings Landing. 

Once the ship was far enough away to be out of sight from the gold cloaks, he ordered his men to drop an anchor, where they were to wait for Yara and the stolen ships. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Sansa**

Sansa sat with Brienne on the deck of the ship. Eurons’ ships were huge, at least three times bigger than the Manderly ships. Sansa had been braiding her hair, the moon finally rose and illuminated the surrounding seas. 

Suddenly, Sansa saw something take shape out of the darkness up ahead, “Brienne? Are you seeing this?”

She looked in the direction and softly gasped, “It looks like-“

“Ships.” Sansa turned to look at her, “Where do you think they’re going?”

“I can’t say my Lady.”

Long after the ships had vanished from sight, Sansa found herself still looking after them.

I have to find a way to earn Euron’s trust. There’s something he’s not telling me, something important.

She stood up and told the first iron born crew mate she found that she wanted to have a meeting with Euron.

“I’ll let him know.” The bald headed man told her, “You and your friend should go to your cabins, there’s a storm coming. I can smell it.” 

“Thank you, we will do that.” She moved to walk away, but stopped turning back to ask, “Do you know where those ships were headed? The ones that diverted from the rest of the fleet just now?”

He flashed a yellow, toothless smile at her, “I could lose my tongue if I told you that.” 

“Of course, forgive me.” She turned back to Brienne who was approaching her.

“We’d best get inside my Lady, the wind is picking up.”

Sansa looked up at the dark sky, her braid whipping wildly along with the heavy falling snow. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Jon**

Jon looked around the great hall, he had become very good at giving these speeches. Once everyone seemed to have settled, he began, “I’ve called you all here to give you my gratitude. We were able to come together, put our differences aside, and fight bravely. To the Northern vassals under my leadership, I am sending you to your homes. Lady Sansa has rationed enough grain for anyone who finds themselves in need. I would remind you, that Guest Right is strictly enforced. We can not survive, if we can not trust in one another. Go home, protect your homes and your people. I will go and find my cousins, the rightful heirs to Winterfell. I will bring them here and after I am going to find a way to stop the Night King. I will call upon you once more. This time I swear to you we will not lose. If he can not be killed, I will to find a way to end this.”

“With respect, my Lord, how can we end this without killing him?” Asked Lord Cerwyn 

“The first men found a way to end the long night. I hope to find out exactly what it is that they did, so we might find a way to end it.” 

“The Knights of the Vale rode here for Lady Sansa. She has made sure to prepare us for this winter, including the Vale. We are not a part of the North, but she’s helped us all the same. If you’ll have us, we would gladly accompany you to find and return her, her brother and sister.” Lord Royce declared.

“You are very kind my Lord, but you would be the most help to us if you returned to the Vale and held it against the dead. Ser Jaime Lannister will lead the men Edmure Tully has sent to fight for House Stark.

Lord Royce nodded his head in agreement. Jon stood up and made his way to Tyrion and Jaime, with Ser Davos following close behind. 

They were talking to Qhono, the Dorthraki commander. Grey Worm joined them as well as Missandei.

“What about those of us who are under Queen Daenerys’ command?” Grey Worm asked. 

“She ordered us to set up camp outside castle walls.” Qhono told him.

“Were leaving the castle abandoned. There won’t be anyone here.” Davos said.

“My Queen gave me orders, we stay outside castle walls.” Qhono stood tall, he looked down at Tyrion and walked off.

“Did you find her, Tyrion?” Jon asked him

Tyrion Lannister had been turned away all the while. He slowly turned to reveal his face, beaded with sweat. His cheeks were streamed with fallen tears, Jon already had an idea as to what he might say.

“Qhono says that she ordered him to set up camp outside of Winterfell. She then rode off into the woods, where Drogon was seen flying into the night sky.” Tyrion’s voice was broken, his natural charm was no where to be heard. His gaze never lifted off the ground.

“What does that mean? She’s left? Where?” Jon asked, dreading the answer.

“She didn’t say but-“ Tyrion started.

“I could take a guess.” Jaime said, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“We don’t know for sure if she’s gone to Kings Landing.” Tyrion said, forcing a smile.

“And what of it if she has?” Missandei asked sharply. Her perfectly shaped brows wrinkled over her narrowed eyes.

Grey Worm noticed Jon, Tyrion and Jaime’s concerned looks. He stepped closer to Missandei and gently place his hand on her shoulder. She shook it off and scowled at them, “Daenerys Targaryen would never leave her people behind. If she’s gone, it’s for a good reason, and she’ll be back. Did Lord Jon not release his men, only moments ago? Why, then does Daenerys have to stay while the others are free to go?” 

Tyrion moved to attempt calming her, but a cautious look from Grey Worm stopped him short. Grey Worm then placed his hand on the small of her back and took her hand in his as he explained something to her in another language. It didn’t seem to work.

Tyrion then told them both about the caches of wildfire being stored in Kings Landing. He told them about how Daenerys didn’t believe they were any threat to the city, and her plan to melt down the Red Keep. 

“In my experience with the Red Woman, Melisandre.. I found that when a person believes that they are doing the right thing- well there’s no stopping them. Soon they are consumed, much like the fire they worship. It’s starts off as a spark, but as it grows, it destroys everything in their path. Fire has no mercy.”

“No you’re wrong!” Missandei told him, “You don’t know anything about her!”

Davos nodded his head in agreement, “Aye, you’re right. Daenerys is not Melisandre. But I do know Melisandre, she is a handsome woman, she serves her Lord loyally, and she burned an innocent little girl alive, to win a war.” 

Grey Worm was wide eyed and shaken, Missandei shook her head refusing to hear another word, “She doesn’t harm people, she saves them. I am not going anywhere, I will wait for her return. When she does, she will tell you that she has not harmed anyone- that she would never!” 

It was then that Jon realized he would have to put his ride to Greywater Watch on hold, if Daenerys has flown to Kings Landing after being told about the wildfire... that makes her is a threat to the realm.

“I hope you’re right.” Jon told her, “We will stay until she returns- if she returns.” 

“She will!” She shouted to Jon, pushing Grey Worms’ hands away.

“Well when she does, if she has harmed anyone other than Cersei Lannister, honor compels me to protect the realm.” Jon calmly explained. 

“You speak of honor, but since you’ve come into My Queen’s life, she has lost her dragon and a great deal of her army! The moment she goes to fight for something she believes in, you want to turn her own people against her!” Missandei darted out of the hall and out of sight.

Grey Worm looked after her, “Forgive Missandei,” he turned to face Jon, “She loves our Queen very much. So do I, but I will not let that blind me- if she does this terrible thing. Forcing a city to kneel, using fear and violence- that is not the Breaker of Chains. That is a Master.” He looked down, holding his hands behind his back.

Jon took a deep breath, “I won’t harm her. She is my aunt, I will have to hold her prisoner until we can give her a proper trial. Grey Worm, you are a good man, I have enjoyed fighting beside you. Here in Westeros we honor a sacred custom called Guest Right. It means when a host has given a guest, noble or low born, food and drinks under his roof no harm may come to that guest for the duration of their stay. We Northmen honor that custom much more in the winter when food and drink are scarce. Though you will not be under this roof, do not hesitate to ask if you need anything at all, I’ll be just over the castle wall.” 

Grey Worm nodded, his face set in a serious look.

“Let’s hope our Queen returns soon- not having leveled an entire city.” Said Tyrion.

And with that they all went off, hoping for the best.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter is so exciting it’s already half written >:D


	18. Tragic

**Sansa**

The ship calmly swayed into the night, or was it morning? She couldn’t tell now that the sun had stopped shining down on them. She had been staring up at the wooden ceiling and listening to the sounds surrounding her. Muffled voices and footsteps, she pulled on her cloak and went up to the deck. She spotted Brienne’s tall silhouette. She turned, her face softening as she met Sansa’s gaze.

Brienne motioned to a large cluster of mountains and dark shadowy vales, “That island looks just like Tarth- it is Tarth.”

“But that would mean-“ Sansa started, her breath quickened. They looked at each other in confusion.

The ship creaked to a slower pace along with the entire fleet. Eurons long ship stopped beside a much smaller ship, a wooden bridge was lowered down, connecting the two.

“What do you think it is?” Brienne asked.

“It looks to me like a huge box, a-“ Sansa gasped, “Could it be the Dragon horn?!”

Briennes’ forehead scrunched up and her eyes flashed with rage, “He’s moving the horn to another ship?” 

Better to keep it far away from Cersei, “He’s leaving it here before we get to Kings Landing. That means neither Cersei or Euron will have it in their possession.”

Brienne sighed deeply, “If we hadn’t seen it for ourselves, we would have never known.” Her voice was strained with frustration.

“Then it’s a good thing we did see for ourselves.” Sansa leaned her arm over the wooden beam that wrapped around the entire deck, “Now we just have to pretend we didn’t.”

Brienne nodded as she looked out at the land they were sailing by, “I met your mother in these lands, she was quite a woman.” Brienne looked at Sansa, the flames from the torches surrounding them caught the gold in her short blonde hair, “My Lady, there’s something I never got a chance to tell you- I’m not really sure how to begin.” Brienne paused, “When I found myself in the Riverlands-“ 

The clinking of chains on Eurons’ ship started grinding together pulling the bridge back up.

Brienne and Sansa watched as the smaller ship sailed into the valley between Tarth and the Storm lands.

“Shipbreaker Bay, they better hope a storm doesn’t come and wash them away.” Brienne scoffed, “All these ships coming and going, I don’t like it.” She shook her head

“I’m going to meet with Euron, that’s him now.” Sansa pointed to a row boat approaching the ship. It was too dark to see him, which meant he was unable to see her too.

Soon she would see Cersei again, Sansa tapped at her temple as she watched Euron come closer and closer.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

**Theon**

They had been waiting for Yara for what felt like hours. The moon was high in the sky now, but it didn’t worry him. He had faith in Yara and knew she would soon return.

Theon stomped back up to the deck from his cabin, intent on tearing Jenny’s painting to pieces and throwing it into the sea.  
He sat on the edge of the deck, he hung his legs over the edge, and took one last look at it.

What did I expect? That she’d love me? That I’d finally belong somewhere for once? He thought bitterly.

“You’re in pain.” Ellaria’s voice came from behind him, “Want to talk about it?”

Theon wordlessly shook his head, casting his gaze into the sea. Although Ellaria had gotten much better, she was much more quiet than he remembered. Her eyes were not present, they carried a sorrow in them, one that Theon knew all too well. She had been broken in that cell.

“Good. I doubt I would have been much help.” She looked at the painting of Kings Landing in his hands, and up at the direction of it in the far distance. “I hate that city.” She spit walking to the opposite side of the deck.

Theon gripped his hands over the edges of the painting. He hated the city too.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

**Daenerys**

Nothing would stop her now, she could see the shape of the Red Keep in the distance. The city was quiet, snow fell in thick layers. She felt a smirk form on her lips and her eyes narrow as Drogon silently flew over the last stretch of land. Panic would surely ensue if Drogon were to be seen approaching. It was better to remain unseen, without a warning there would be no time to for Cersei to escape. Soon she would learn better than to betray a dragon, even if just for one terrifying moment before she tasted fire and blood. She’d always known the throne came at a price, Dany tried to compromise by offering a truce. _If I look back I am doomed_

Tyrion had warned her against using dragon fire, but she had always suspected that he only wanted to protect his sister. Her rage flared, she would deal with him when she returned. He was no longer fit to serve as hand of the Queen.

Drogon flew straight up along the length of the highest tower of the huge fortress. For so long she had dreamt of the day she would return and strike down the usurpers’ and taking back her home. She’d hang the three headed dragon over Kings Landing, once again. Drogon reached the very top of the tallest Keep, flapping his wings in place. There it lay below her, the most beautiful castle in the realm. 

For a moment Daenerys thought to wait for Cersei to come out and stand on the balcony, she thought of going in and commanding Drogon to unleash his fiery vengeance. She would emerge from the flames unburnt, all of the people of Kings Landing would cheer, for they would finally be free of the suffering they’ve known since the day House Targaryen had fallen. It would soon be hers, all she had to do was take it. 

Would her ancestors be angry at what she was about to do? They had been the ones to build the iron throne, and the castle along with it. Aegon the Conqueror had brought these lands to their knees with his dragons. He might have been more angry that the blood of the dragon wasn’t ruling as they had always been meant to. Ecstasy rose in her belly as she began to form the word on her lips. _I don’t want to be queen of the ashes_

The only ashes that would be made were that of Cersei Lannister, and every person foolish enough to serve her. She hardened her gaze as well as her heart, “Dracarys!!!!” She shouted. 

The tower below her melted against the heat of Drogons’ fire. The flames consumed everything in their path, the roof of the tower caved in. Stone and snow fell into a pit of fire burning brighter than the sun itself, it was a beautiful sight to behold. The fires danced in her shining eyes, it felt even better than she’d ever imagined. Voices in the castle pierced through the walls, gold cloaks ran out, falling to the ground as their skin crackled and blistered before their very eyes. _If I look back I am lost._

“Dracarys! Dracarys! Dracarys!” She sang, as Drogon streamed down his fury upon the keeps and the towers. She burned the Godswood and the gardens, she scorched the stables and the entire courtyard. And in that moment as she avenged her house, she truly felt like the last dragon. 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

**Theon**

It was nice to be away from the city’s awful stink, the dirty crowded streets and the lairs that plagued them. Yet, Theon could not bring himself to destroy the painting in his hands. He never thought it possible to feel the warmth of another person’s love. Even if it wasn’t true love, for a moment in time, someone accepted him exactly as he was. That meant more to Theon than he ever thought it could. Jenny was gorgeous, he thought about her sweet almond eyes and her full pouted lips, and he remembered her long silk legs wrapped around that man in the tavern, rubbing his cock against her like a dog.

He sighed, placing the painting beside him on the deck. Looking out at the docks by the castle he wondered what was taking Yara such a long time. He could faintly see the fallen sails of the anchored ships flowing calmly in the wind as they had been doing all night.

He looked up at the dim stars spread across the night sky. Suddenly something caught his eye, he thought it to be a raven flying to deliver a message to some Lord. As it flew closer, Theon realized with dread that it was no raven. His belly knotted up when he saw the huge winged shadow in the sky fly over the city. Daenerys, he thought, she must be- 

Just then, a stream of flames rained down upon the castle. She flew through the towers setting fire to everything in her path, including the ships. Theon jumped up to his feet, “No!” He heard himself shout, “Yara!” 

By the time she was done with it, the entire castle was wreathed in flames.  
“Yara!” He shouted again, Theon leaned into the darkness hoping to get a better view, praying to any gods that would listen, to return his sister back to him. The castle started to fall in giant pieces to the ground crushing everything on impact.

When the first set of explosions went off, their green tone, confused him, his eyes then widened with realization as the small rhythmic explosions spread from the burning castle, past Aegons’ High Hill. The screaming had begun shortly after the first huge blast. The sound was deafening, he could hear animals crying out in pain, babies screaming through an agonizing torment that they’ll never understand. He wanted to do something, anything- but he was paralyzed with fear. 

The second blast was even bigger, he didn’t even see the third- fourth- or fifth explosions, though he heard each one and felt the waves of the sea crashing against his ship. He could see Daenerys circling above the Red Keep, as if to protect it from the blasts. Not that she needed to, the explosions had been neatly organized down in paths along the side of Aegon’s Hill. They were small compared to the huge blasts that followed.

The men who went to carry out the stealing of the ships were surely lost. Bomar, Yara- The millions of people who lived in King’s Landing. Why didn’t he insist on leaving the same day they successfully rescued Yara? And the worst part of it all was that he, himself had helped bring Daenerys here. Theon clenched his fists and pounded on the deck below him. He stood up and charged at the scorpion on the other side of the ship, bumping into Ellaria who stood wordlessly with her mouth hanging open. He desperately pulled off the cloth covering the scorpion and grabbed a huge arrow, he slid it into place and nocked the large wire cable away from the limb of the contraption, as fast as he could. He aimed it at the monster in the sky, and when the dragon flew into his sights, Theon immediately loosed the enormous bolt, it launched directly into the winged beasts’ chest. Theon huffed in frustration, as he had been aiming for its head.

The dragon screeched out in pain and Theon loaded another arrow into the flight grove. When he looked back up into the night sky, he saw he could no longer shoot at it anymore. They retreated over the sea, and for one strangely calming moment Theon thought she might burn his ship. He closed his eyes when she flew over him, he was not afraid. 

But when she flew past him, Theon opened his eyes to see the shadow of the demon against the green burning light in the sky, clear as day.

“No!!” He screamed, running after it as far as the stern would allow. 

He was shouting out cursing her, but he couldn’t even hear his own voice, only the chilling metallic screeches of the monster. And long after she’d gone, Theon lay emotionless on the ground hugging his knees to his chest. 

“I know how you’re feeling.” Ellaria’s voice snapped him out of the ringing in his ears, “You can lay there and cry over what you have lost, or you can rise up and join me. I swear to you we will make them pay, Daenerys, her dragon, and Cersei. We will go to Dorne and order my fleet to find them and destroy them. Starting with the biggest threat looming over us, Daenerys.”

Theon stood up, he could hardly recognize his own voice, “I know where she’s going.” 

“We will lead the Dornish fleet right to her. We are going to correct the mistakes we’ve made, trusting and aiding her in coming here.”

“Then we sail to the North, if she hasn’t already burned them to a crisp, House Stark will need our help.” Theon felt his voice grow stronger as he agreed to work with Ellaria. 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

**Daenerys**

Drogon landed in the ruins of Harrenhal, she remembered it being close to Kings Landing in all the maps she’d ever seen. Drogon has been crying out in pain from the giant arrow sticking out of his chest. He landed beside a weirwood tree, the face carved into it was all too real, it seemed to glare right at her.

Dany jumped off Drogons’ back, she grasped the huge arrow, struggling to pull it out. She pulled back, throwing her weight into the pull, and it slid it out of his scaled chest. He cried out again in pain, and wrapped into himself falling in to a deep sleep.

Daenerys was a bit bothered that he wanted to sleep, she had only wanted to stop here to pull out the arrow. Still, she let him be, he had flown all the way there from the North after all. Dany was more bothered that she didn’t have anything to do to keep her from thinking about what she’d done.

She couldn’t get the sound of the crying and the screams that rose up from the city out of her head, the smell of their burning skin and the thick smoke in her lungs that she coughed out when she’d breathed it in. 

She walked to the ruins of Harrenhal, the place where so many had died. She remembered the story of Aegon, how he burned King Harren alive, along with his sons and all those who served them. King Harren was said to be arrogant and cruel, the world was probably better without him. 

Daenerys did not intend for all of the city to burn, only Cersei. She too was arrogant and cruel.

Dany decided that she would’ve probably had to execute most of them anyway, if they had shared the same views that those two men did on the battle of the Goldroad. She remembered Tyrion had once told her that Kings Landing was filled with weak fickle men and women. He stormed the gates of Kings Landing and fought to protect them all during the battle of Blackwater Bay. In return, they all stood idly by as he was accused and tried for a crime everyone knew he didn’t commit. Perhaps the world was better off without the lot of them, she thought. _What of the women? The old? The poor? What of the children?_

These are times of war, just like Aegon’s War of Conquest. In order to build her new world, Daenerys saw that she had to destroy the terrible old one. 

She took one last look at the ruins of Harrenhal, what was once the largest fortress in all the Seven Kingdoms. Returned to brick and ash by dragons. Perhaps the Gods had sent dragons down to humble arrogant men, or as the red priestesses would say to cleanse the world of darkness. They told her that her dragons are fire made flesh, and Daenerys was their mother.

She walked back to Drogon who had woken up as she approached, she climbed on his back, and they flew back North.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

**Sansa**

Sansa made her way down the few steps from the deck to the cabin where she was to meet with Euron. She knew that he wouldn’t tell her anything about the ships or where they were going, he wanted a pretty obedient wife. So that is what she would have him believe she was. Sansa composed her face like a mask, and entered the room. 

Euron leaned back in his chair, his foot resting upon a desk before him. He was drinking from a wooden cup and dressed in his long black cloak with the Greyjoy sigil embroidered in fine gold thread.

“My Lord, i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages.” Sansa told him as she sat down across from him.

“Aye, I get wrapped up in my planning, I lose track of time. This conquest requires my complete attention. And I wanted to make sure to honor our agreement on having your own separate ship.” He drank from his cup, Sansa noticed his eyes were red from exhaustion. Or was it the mead?

“It might help to talk about it, if it pleases my Lord.” 

He smiled, “I shall share my every thought with you, after we’ve been married.” His leg fell to the ground as he leaned foreword to place his cup on the desk, “Were not here to talk about that are we, what is it you wanted to know?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that we were well past Kings Landing. I just wanted to make sure we still understood each other.” Sansa said, kindly in a worried tone.

He laughed, “You wanted me to take you to Cersei didn’t you?” 

She bit her bottom lip, gaining Eurons’ attention to her lips as she nodded her head.

“If it’s Cersei Lannister you want, she isn’t in Kings Landing. We’ve sailed past Kings Landing, because I’m not taking you there. We’re going to Casterly Rock.” 

She widened her eyes innocently, “I’m afraid I don’t understand my Lord, Cersei Lannister would never leave the throne or her position as Queen.” 

“She told me that the imp revealed the Dragon Queens’ desire to burn down the Red Keep. She isn’t willing to risk being burned alive over the throne. She rules from the rock, she is recognized by the Westerlands, the Reach and the Crownlands as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She can’t force the remaining kingdoms into subjection if she’s a pile of ash now can she?” 

“You’re right. She’s smarter than that.”

“The woman is mad, she’s even planted wildfire beneath the entire city just to turn the people against her if she were to attack.” He laughed hard, hanging his head back, “And her Queensguard? Only a fucking crazy person would ever think to do a thing like that.”

Sansa arched her brow questioningly, hoping he would tell her more.

“She’s had them all made into her-“ he struggled to find the right words, “Pets, or whatever you want to call those things.”

“Like she’s done to the Mountain?” Sansa asked, recalling Brienne’s accounts of the Dragonpit Summit.

“Aye, she’s got seven of them now, but don’t worry, Cersei plans on holding you prisoner. If the time comes when she tries to kill you, I’ll be right by her side ready to stop her.” Euron nodded at her.

Sansa fought the urge to roll her eyes, how many men would vow to protect her, “I’m glad you brought this up, I have been thinking and we would do well to make this as convincing as we can. You parade me before Cersei, tied up as your prisoner. We let her believe that you’ve captured me against my will, and let her believe it until I’ve gotten the information I need from her.”

“Then we kill her?” Euron asked

“Then we take her prisoner, and give her a fair trial for her crimes against the realm.” Sansa told him as she shook her head.

He stood up and walked to her side, “Sounds like we have a plan.” He rasped as he held out his arm to her.

He smelled of foul breath and mead, and his blue eyes were glazed over with a milky film. Sansa wanted to run out of the cabin, she even considered jumping off the ship- anything to avoid having to touch him. She choked down her disgust and twined her arm around his. 

She thought of the reason for all of it as he lead her to the door. If keeping her house safe from the likes of Cersei meant having to pretend to trust Euron, she would do it a thousand times over. Bran was hardly himself anymore. Arya, fueled by crippling vengeance wanted Cersei’s head without question. And Jon- she blinked away the stinging of tears.

Jon was thousands of miles away, protecting all of the realm from a threat far bigger than Cersei. She hadn’t allowed herself to think of Jon, he was happily in love and she was glad of it, what more could Sansa want for her half-brother?

Euron opened the door to the cabin where a scraggly, bald crew mate was swabbing down the steps to the deck. He stopped swabbing and moved aside so they could pass. As they walked up the steps, Sansa could feel the man’s crazed stare. It made her feel even more uncomfortable that having her arm linked around Eurons’.

“Like what you see?” Euron asked the thin man.

He nervously struggled to find words uttering out only short sharp breaths that smelled strongly of mead. 

Euron slipped his arm free from Sansa’s and stopped one step above the trembling man, “I’ll have your eyes for staring at my betrothed.” He said calmly as if he weren’t threatening him.

“My Lord, this is hardly neces-“ Sansa started, hoping she could persuade him to spare him.

“When he looks at you like that, does it make you feel safe?” Euron turned, a deep line set in between his brows made him look absolutely mad.

“Men have been looking at me like that all my life. It is so very kind of you to take my feelings into consideration my Lord, however a drunken crew mate is nothing to worry about- especially in the winter. We need every man we can spare if we ever hope to survive.” 

Eurons’ face went smooth and he smiled kindly, “My Lady is a kind woman,” in the blink of an eye he flipped a dagger out of its scabbard, and swiftly pierced it into the man’s left eye, “Unfortunately for you,” he pulled it out of his eye socket and stabbed it into the screaming man’s other eye, “I am not.” 

The bald man desperately pressed his palms to his eyes, they drenched in flowing blood and he screamed out in agony. 

“Oh shut up, you old cunt.” He snaked his hand in between his crew mates’ angled arms and sliced across his neck slow and deep. The man gurgled a sound that made Sansa cringe, and blood splattered across Euron’s smiling face.

Sansa watched as the bald man’s struggles slowly came to an end. She thought about the day Joffrey had spared Ser Dontos, there was a method to his madness. It felt like Euron would not be so easily influenced. 

“Some one come swab these filthy steps!!” Euron shouted, leading Sansa out on to the deck. Linking their arms together as they had been doing moments ago. 

It was then that Brienne ran to Sansa’s side, “My Lady! The wind has brought in a chill, much like White Harbor-“ 

A crushing blow to the long ship before them stopped Brienne from finishing her sentence. Sansa felt Euron’s arm fall limp beside her as he shouted out in fury.

“What in the fuck-“ he started, when another blow to the ship brought the massive thing crashing into the sea, “Nooo!!” A pale white tentacle bigger than three long ships put together, slithered around the length of the ship and crushed it to pieces, “My Silence!!!!!” Euron shouted, pulling the battle axe around his back. 

Euron and Brienne took a defensive stance on either side of Sansa, whose hands trembled around her cloak, searching for her dragonglass dagger.

Before the gigantic creature had fully emerged from the water, screams pulled their attention behind where they stood, to the cabin Sansa and Euron had just met in. 

They turned and were stunned to find the bald man Euron had just murdered biting into another crew mates face, pulling the flesh off with his teeth. His skin pale as the full moon in the sky, his eyes a rich blue glow.


	19. Seeing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events that have transpired are revealed

**Bran**

They’d been riding along frozen over swamps so long, they would have to stop soon. Up ahead Bran noticed an island with snow covered trees, the wind had died down from the howling storm that had just passed. 

“We shouldn’t have sent word to Jon, what if he sends someone? They may never find a way to get there.” Arya was frustrated and weary, she was always sharp with her words when she was sleepy. 

“I see trees up ahead.” Bran told her, without turning to look at her, “We can set up camp there.” 

When they arrived, Podrick and Gendry got to gathering and feeding the horses. Gilly sifted through the wagon, while Sam and little Sam gathered wood for a fire.

Maester Wolkan helped Bran off his saddle and into the wheeled chair Arya had pushed over to them. 

“The trees on that island? How will we get to them? We should have been there by now, it’s not too late to turn back.” 

Bran had planned on riding to the island to look for a Weirwood tree,  
“We’re close.” He lied. They had been lost for days now. He knew that he could find a way to Greywater Watch once he found its exact location through his visions. “Meera told me it moves. I thought it would be frozen in place with winter, but I don’t seem to know anything these days without a Heart tree.” 

“We’ll look through the woods tomorrow, but I don’t know if we can make it out here much longer.” Arya yawned.

Gilly passed around a basket of bread just as Sam sparked the fire to life. They all settled around the warmth, too tired to talk.

 

 

 

The next morning, Arya had taken Bran across the swamp. It was frozen around an island of tall trees, when they got the the other side of the solid water, Arya pushed against the deep snow. Bran helped by pulling the grip of the wheels when he’d get stuck. 

“Bran look!” Arya said through a smile.

He looked up to see a thick weirwood tree, it still held its bright red leaves. She rushed them around it to find a deeply carved face. Streams of scarlet dripped down from it.

“It must be five feet thick.” She pushed him right beside the white base of it before jumping around to stop Bran’s outstretched hand, “Wait- are you sure you can do this?” 

“Yes.” Bran told her, “I have to, if it goes wrong I’ll only be unconscious for a few days.”

“It’s much worst than that.” She let go of his hand and helped him to a shapely grove where the trees’ roots rose from the earth, “What if there’s nothing left of you, when you wake up?” 

“I’ll know more than I do now.” He told her as leaned back and let himself relax as Arya covered his legs with a brown fur blanket. 

He let his thoughts fall silent and closed his eyes. 

 

_He saw Jon jerk back from the Night King’s touch, they were in Brandon’s Gift. The Night King had been trying to turn Jon into one of his servants. Bran stood right beside them, Jon’s face was bloody, and bruised. The Night King had a broken shard of dragonglass breaking into frozen pieces out of his heart. The pale skin grew back under his torn tunic like ice freezing over a pond. Jon was wide eyed and in utter shock as he backed away into the woods. The Night King called for his undead dragon, who landed close beside him. Bran turned to Jon, and watched in relief when he ran through the trees escaping the blue flames of the ice dragon. Jon couldn’t kill him. Bran wondered what happened next._

_He was somewhere different now, it was Harrenhal. Bran stood before Daenerys Targaryen, she had tears brimmed on her lashes which were freezing in place. She was feeling guilty, Bran thought. Why?_

_Bran was suddenly standing on a ship beside Theon Greyjoy. Bran had seen this happen before, only it was daylight in that vision. This vision was one of the past. The dragons’ shadow flew across the city under the moonlit night._

_Daenerys had her dragon rain down fire from above, soon the entire castle was in flames and the Red Keep was a pile of bricks and ash. Shortly after, the entire city is consumed in green flames. Theon shouted out his sister’s name, Bran felt pity for him. If he could cry, he would have, all of the lives lost that day._

_He cleared his mind, and asked himself, how can the Night King be killed?_

_He was in a familiar place now, it was clear, cold morning. This was the day that his Lord father carried out the King’s Justice. Theon handed Eddard Stark “Ice”, House Starks’ ancestral sword. He remembered his thoughts in that very moment, ‘The blade was Valyrian steel, spell-forged and dark as smoke. Nothing held an edge like Valyrian steel.’_

_The vision faded along with his fathers words as he sentenced the deserter, and he found himself in a dark tunnel, damp with dripping water. Bran knew these were the murder holes of Storms End, he looked around and noticed a group of women and men dressed in ragged red robes drenched in water and mud. Suddenly one of the women looked up, she had red hair, eyes, and a bright red ruby around her neck. Her name came to him in a whisper. Melisandre, the Red Woman. Bran knew that she would be an important part of killing the Night King. He wondered how they would free the red priestess from her chains below Storms End._

_His vision shifted within the walls of the mighty fortress, inside was Brienne of Tarth, his sister Sansa’s sworn sword and shield. She was looking out of a window, tears streaming down her pink puffy face. Bran turned to look in the direction she was gazing in. It was a Greyjoy ship, on the edge of the mast was Sansa, soaking wet and looking back at the fortress, as she drifted further away. This hasn’t happened yet, Sansa is leaving Brienne to protect the Red Woman._

_How will this all end? Bran thought, as his sister’s tear streaked face began to fade into darkness._

_In the blink of an eye, Bran was in the Winterfell Godswood. He watched a woman with long flowing copper hair dressed in a rich blue dress walk through the trees. He focused on a spot ahead of the woman, he was before her now, he could see it was Sansa. On her wedding day, which has yet to come. Just as Bran pondered who she might be marrying, a chilling shadow emerged from the darkness of the woods._

_No, it’s back. Bran found himself struck with fear once again, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold on to anything after this time. He found himself wishing for his mother, and father. As he shut his eyes at the approaching shadow._

_When he opened them again he was in the same place, the Winterfell Godswood. Only this time he was right in front of the Heart tree there. His father sat before the tree cleaning blood off of his sword. This was after they’d returned from the execution of the deserter all those years ago. Jon had just found the dire wolf pups. Lady Catelyn approached her husband reluctantly, and Bran felt his throat tighten at the sight of his parents, alive and well. He was no longer afraid of the shadow, which had grown smaller, and eventually disappeared. He was glad to see his mother and father again, to hear them speak of belonging, and family. It was more than Bran had ever hoped to see. His breathing became quicker and he pulled away from the vision, away from the Heart tree._

 

He opened his eyes and found he was back in the swamps of the Neck. Arya hovering over him, sighed in relief when she saw he was back.

“So much has happened, we should talk.” Bran told Arya, his voice an even tone.

“Did you find Greywater Watch?” She asked as she helped him back into his wooden chair.

“I know where it is.” Bran said. It was true, connecting with the ancient tree has allowed him to feel where the Keep was located. 

“Good.” Arya smiled as she pushed her brother back to their camp.

 

 

 

 

Everyone had gathered around the fire, Bran wanted to tell them about his visions. 

“First I saw that Jon was unable to kill the Night King. I told him that he was made by having a shard of dragonglass pierced into his heart during a ritual held by the Children of the Forest. We thought that might be the way to stop him. We were wrong.”

They all broke out in panicked whispers, and Bran continued.

“We’ve lost to the Army of the Dead and there is no way that we know of to stop them. Next, I saw Daenerys Targaryen riding on her dragon, she flew to Kings Landing and burned down the Red Keep. The fire from the castle spread underground, and set off caches of wildfire planted. The entire city has been destroyed and everyone in it was killed.” 

Gilly gasped loudly and Gendry stood up and began to pace back and forth. Everyone else sat in silent shock as Bran continued.

“I know that finding Lord Howland Reed will help us find the answers we need to kill the Night King. The visions showed me Red Priests at Storms End. They also showed me Ice, my fathers’ Valyrian steel sword. I believe these things will all be needed to create the weapon that will stop the Night King.” 

“Ice? That sword hasn’t been seen since the day-“ Arya sighed, “since the day father lost his head. Sansa is the only one who might know where to find it and she’s-“

“At Storms End. She’s going to leave Brienne to aid in the escape of the Red Priests.” Bran told her.

“Was that all you saw?” Arya asked.

Bran thought of Sansa in the blue wedding dress, he decided to withhold the vision as he didn’t get to see her groom, “I saw Sansa, but before I learned anything the darkness returned. I thought of mother and father, it seemed to have driven the shadow away. I still don’t understand how or why.” 

Sam cleared his throat, “I recall you saying the Child of the Forest, and the Three Eyed Raven told you this was a blind spot, was it?”

Bran nodded.

“They told you it was something from your past that you had yet to deal with. Now you tell us that your vision of Lady Catelyn and Lord Eddard has driven it away. Perhaps it has to do with them.” Sam stood up and rushed to the wagon to sift through some books, he produced one and walked back to sit by the fire. 

“My brother, Dickon- he took part in the sack of High Garden. He was burned along side my father. I can imagine that he followed my fathers defiance against Daenerys, and refused to kneel before her.” He took a moment to compose his voice as it was breaking, “Years ago, I might’ve done the same if it were me... All children want to make their mothers and fathers proud of them. It just seemed I never could, no matter what I did. But not Dickon, father loved Dickon. He wasn’t perfect, but who is? He was my little brother. And though I never got to prove that I am worthy of the Tarly name to my him, Lord Randyl, was my father. They were my family, and they didn’t deserve to be burned alive.” Sam passed the book to Bran, it was about the study of the human mind. 

“I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to them. I will have to carry that with me all my life. And so will you Bran. You didn’t get to say goodbye to your parents. Maybe the darkness was born from that subconscious realization.”

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Arya**

Arya thought of Sansa in that moment, the way they’d bicker at the smallest of things. The look in her eyes, when Queen Cersei ordered their lord father to kill Lady in Nymeria’s place. All the pain and suffering that followed Sansa and Arya after. Sam will never have the chance to make things right with his brother- or father. 

“I was angry for a long time.” Bran said, “Father left with Arya and Sansa, then Mother, and Robb too. I was angry that they chose to stay far away from me. When I needed them most, they left and I never saw them again.” 

After a long silence, he continued, “I saw father in a dream when he was killed, Robb in some as well. When I’d see Mother-“ Bran trailed off, “I cant remember.” He looked at Arya, “I don’t even have any memories left of her. Seeing her again in that vision- it was the first time I’d seen her in ages.” 

Arya gave him a weak smile, he dropped his gaze back down to the book in his hands and flipped through the pages. 

 

 

 

 

 

At last they had arrived to the gates of Greywater Watch, they had reached the top of the hill in a few hours. There they saw an island where the fortress was located in the middle of a frozen over swamp. When they’d reached the bottom of the hill they found the castle had inexplicably moved much closer to them. A horn was sounded and a drawbridge dropped down before them. A short blonde man had ridden his horse across the bridge to meet them. 

“State your-“ he started, until he saw the dire wolves that Sansa had embroidered on Bran and Arya’s cloaks, “House Stark?” He asked

“I am Arya of House Stark. This is Bran,” she motioned to him, “he is my brother.” She told him. 

The man nodded “Right this way my Lady.” He led them across the draw bridge to the holdfast. Arya spotted a hooded man standing on the battlements of the gate, a young woman with short, dark and wildly curly hair stood beside him. Her eyes never once left Bran all the while he rode across the bridge.

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Bran**

Meera had been keeping her distance from him, he understood why. All he could manage was his dull greeting, she led them to a room and kept her gaze focused on the hearth. 

“We greatly appreciate your kindness Lord Reed.” Arya said from behind him as she wheeled his chair into the common room.

“It is an honor.” He smiled after them, Howland Reed was a short man, and his hair was the same color that Jojens’ was, only Lord Reed’s was streaked with silvery grey. 

“I came here to ask you a few questions.” Bran said.

“Meera speaks highly of you. I will answer any questions you may have to the best of my ability.” He sat down in a green velvet chair.

“Why did you send your children to Winterfell?” He asked

“My son had a dream about a chained wolf. I saw meaning in it, and decided to send him and his sister to renew our oath to you. I wanted to remind House Stark that House Reed has loyally served them for generations, which is why I was upset Meera returned.” He gave her a sharp look. She simply sighed, her arms folded across her chest.

“How did you know what the dream meant I needed help?” He asked, breaking the silence in the room. 

“I spent some time with the Green Men of The Isle of Faces. That is the place where the Children and the First Men signed The Pact, ending centuries of war.” He stood up and walked over to the window peering out at the frozen lakes.

“What did you learn there Lord Reed?” Bran asked.

Howland turned, he pursed his lips for a bit, “We crannogmen, must know how to defend our bogs. I needed to learn the ways of the Green Men who have guarded that Isle with the old magic of the Children. It is how I am able to unfreeze the water of this lake so that it remains safe. In my time on the Isle, the Children of the Forest told me about the Others. They told me to attend the Tournament of Harrenhal, and so I did. I was beaten and knocked to the ground when I was rescued by Lady Lyanna Stark, House Stark showed kindness to me for the remainder of the Tournament. The wolves of Winterfell helped me, and in return I helped them every way I could. Jojen told me of his dream and I knew I had to send my children at once.” 

“Jojen died getting me to the Three Eyed Raven.” Bran said trying to sort out his murky memory.

“And he died with honor. Jojen knew the importance of this task.” Lord Reed told Bran, “I think you’ll find more answers there. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

“You’ve been a great help I’m sure.” Arya said after a yawn, “I’m going to get some rest.” 

Bran nodded good night to her, and she followed Meera down the hallway. Howland told him of some stories about the Children of the Forest. Meera returned shortly and sat quietly beside the fire.

“I thought the last of the Children died beyond the wall.” Bran said, “Did they ever talk about blind spots in greenseers, did they ever find a way to stop it?” 

“The only way, is to find what’s causing it. Is it happening to you?” 

Bran nodded, “I’m not quite myself anymore.” He wanted to look at Meera, he would hope that she might forgive his distance. She might hear the truth behind his words, and maybe she wouldn’t feel as though it were all for nothing, “I don’t know how to stop it. I have an idea, I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do...”

Howland thought to himself for a moment, “What is it?”

“I once called out to my father in a vision, he turned around as if he’d heard me. What if go back to the day I fell from the tower, or the day my father executed the deserter- what if i told him it was all true. The white walkers, the dragons- We would be better prepared with that knowledge- my brothers and my parents would still be alive.”

Howland shook his head, “I never had the gift of visions, but what you purpose is unnatural. We can not live in the past my Lord, we can only live for the future.”

“The future would be bright if I could fix all the wrong in the world. I could bring Jojen back, my sisters would never have been hurt-“ Bran could hear his dull voice ring through the room and in that moment he wished he could cry.

Meera had stood up from her chair she was breathing hard, but still she remained silent.

“If that were the case, nothing would be as it is now. There’s no knowing what it will be like, and there would be no way to fix it.” Howland walked to the door, turning to Bran one last time, “Powerful magic is required to kill the dead, spells that no body remembers anymore. I think you will find the answers you seek in Gods Eye.”

Bran wished Lord Reed good night, “Good Night Meera.” Bran muttered as he turned his chair around and left the common room. 

 

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Arya**

Although they had just arrived, it was time to head out to Moat Cailin. Bran wanted to go straight to the Isle of Faces, Arya convinced him to stop there for rest. She held in her hands two scrolls. One, informing Moat Cailin of their arrival. Another would be sent to Winterfell, telling Jon where they’d be. 

Howland Reed saw them out, Arya rode steadily across the drawbridge. She stopped as she spotted Meera Reed following close behind them when she looked back. She was about to ride to her and ask if she meant to join them, until she matched Bran’s pace. They didn’t speak, but did share a brief glance. 

“Nice bow!” Arya called out when they rode past her, “Is that?”

“Weirwood.” She answered with a smile, “My father gave me this bow to protect The Three Eyed Raven. I decided to come along if you’ll have me, I see how important it is to my father that I do.” 

“We’re happy to have you.” Arya told her, “Have you got any idea how to get out of here?”

Meera looked out at the bogs, “This way.” She rode ahead, leading Bran, Gendry, Podrick, Maester Wolkan on their horses and Sam, Gilly and Little Sam on their wagon to the direction of Moat Cailin.

 

 

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Theon**

Theon woke up in his chambers, he’d dreamt of riding through the woods of the North. The wind flowing through his hair, the smell of trees and earth surrounding him. In his dream the ground was covered thin with light summer snow. He looked out of the window at the darkness of the night and watched as snow flakes fell relentlessly from the sky. Theon sighed, wondering how long he’d been sleeping. 

He and Ellaria along with the few surviving iron born sailed to Dorne. On the way there, Ellaria told them that she would rally her army and fleet. She said many things he didn’t remember, as he was still shaken from watching the city burn.

After all he and his men had been through to save his sister, their Queen. Theon slammed his fist into the wooden table beside him. He would never forget Euron’s smug look as he confirmed having taken Yara, and he would always remember Daenerys’ puckered face and lack of care for her allies and their safety. 

A knock at the door pulled Theon back to his chambers in Sunspear, he quickly threw on a tunic and answered the door. It was Ellaria, her five daughters, the remaining sand snakes, stood behind her. They were all dressed in black and gold, and they had a look of impatience in their beautiful faces.

“We’ve just buried Tyene, and honored the sand snakes that died fighting on your sisters ship. Now we must plan for war.” Ellaria said, her eyes were filled with tears but her voice was stronger than he’d ever heard it.

“I’m ready.” Theon stepped into his boots and followed beside Ellaria as they walked down the hallway.

“The first thing we ought to do is write to the great houses of Westeros. They need to know what happened in Kings Landing.” Theon told Ellaria.

“Already done.” One of the sand snakes said from behind him.

“The Northern Houses are going through the thick of winter, we need to make sure-“ Theon started.

“That we send our strongest ravens?” Another sand snake called out from behind him.

“Yes, many times the ravens won’t make it in this cold.” Theon said, he put his hand on Ellaria’s arm. 

She stopped walking and turned to him, “I sent our biggest strongest raven to Winterfell. I know they’ll receive it, you have nothing to worry about. I told you we would make the Queens pay for what they’ve done,” she pulled her hand free and continued on, “and that’s what we are going to do.” 

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Jon**

“My Lord, there’s a rider at the gates. Jorah Mormont I believe.” 

Jon stood up to stretch, he had been looking at maps for hours. He decided to follow the guard down the hallway to the gates, where Jorah climbed down from his horse. His forehead was wrinkled with deep set lines of worry.

“Has she returned?” Jorah asked, his voice was dry and broken, he had been out for days searching for his Queen.

“No, I was hoping you might have had better luck.” Jon nodded to the guards to close the gate, the shutting gates came to an abrupt stop.

“My Lord, there is a rider approaching.” The guard shouted out. 

Jon and Jorah turned to look through the half open gates. The rider stopped when asked to, and pulled back the hood of their cloak. Her long silver hair fell around her bony pale face.

Jorah instantly rushed to her side, “My Queen are you alright?” Jorah asked moving to help her dismount.

“I am.” She quickly ran her tongue across her chafed lips.

Jorah turned to Jon, “She needs to food and water, will you send it up to her chambers?” 

“Yes, let me-“ Jon started moving to her side.

“I am sure Ser Jorah can manage just fine.” She said, her hands on his shoulders while he steadied her in his arms. 

“I must ask, Your Grace.-“ Jon called after her, as they made their way down the hall, “Where did you go?” 

Daenerys turned sharply with fire in her lilac eyes, “That is none of your concern. I am a Queen, and I’ don’t have to answer to anyone.” She stomped off weakly.

 

 

 

Jon and Tyrion nervously shared a glance as they waited for Daenerys outside of her bed chambers. The door creaked open and she smiled warmly.

“Your Grace, we have been worried about you.” Tyrion told her, “I feel as though I haven’t seen you in days.”

“I do apologize for that, I have been very tired. I might not have eaten, if it weren’t for Jorah here.” She motioned to Jorah sitting at the table, and moved aside to let them in.

“You were gone for some time, I wanted to tell you that I’m glad you’re back.” Tyrion smiled looking up at her under his lashes.

“I was very upset about Viserion, what he’s become.” She took a deep calming breath, “I needed to take some time for myself to mourn the terrible thing that has happened to my child.” 

Tyrion nodded his head in understanding. Jon did the same, although he could not fathom why she wouldn’t have told anyone where she was going, or why her dragon was seen flying over the woods where she was last seen. 

“If you’ll excuse me I have some work to do.” Jon said as he walked to the door, he paused and turned, “I do hope you’ll tell someone next time you decide to take time for yourself, it is very dangerous to be wandering about in the Winter.” 

Jorah jumped out of his chair, “Where ever my Queen wishes to go, I will be there to make certain she is taken care of.”

Daenerys smiled kindly as she raised her brows, Jon nodded at him, turning to walk out of the room.

 

 

 

 

Jon made his way to his chambers, as he left the keep, he heard the doors slam shut behind him. 

“My lord,” a guard called from above the Maester’s Turret, “A raven has arrived for you.”

 

 

 

“I have written to every powerful house in the Seven Kingdoms. I want the tragic fate of King Landing to be known across Westeros. Daenerys Targaryen has burned down the Red Keep, and set off Wildfire beneath the city planted there by Cersei Lannister. The realm has bled and will continue to bleed until all that is left is ash and bone. Theon Greyjoy and I have agreed to aid House Stark in any way that you may need. -Ellaria Sand, Lady of Sunspear.” 

After he’d read it aloud, Jon handed the parchment to Tyrion, who sat wide eyed and shocked. He took hold of it, looking over the words. Silence filled the room for a moment, “How do we know this is real? Ellaria Sand was taken prisoner by Euron Greyjoy, Cersei would’ve killed her by now for what she did to her daughter.” 

Jon sighed deeply, how far did Daenerys have to go so that Tyrion could see her for what she truly is? 

“Theon told me he was going to save his sister before we left Dragonstone. He went to Kings Landing, maybe he helped Ellaria escape while he was there.” Jon had already decided what his next move had to be.

“So what do you purpose?” Tyrion said meekly, his head slumped in defeat.

“First we need to find those who will defend her. I don’t want any bloodshed.” Jon told him. 

“Then we must call a meeting with Ser Jorah.” Tyrion stood up, “Let’s be quick about it. The sooner, the better.” He said.

 

 

 


	20. Dungeons and Krakens

**Jon**

He looked around at Missandei, Grey Worm, Tyrion and Jaime Lannister all sitting in solemn silence. They passed around the scroll that Ellaria Sand had sent to him, with a heavy sigh Jon stood up and paced across Sansa’s solar, to the door. He opened it and ordered the guard to gather more men.

“Tyrion, would you tell Daenerys that I’ve called for a meeting here?” Jon asked him.

“I’ll do it.” Missandei rose up and moved for the door.

Jon stood before her, “Would you like me to order guards to accompany you?”

Missandei’s chestnut eyes gleamed with tears, she shook her head, “She’ll come peacefully.” She breathed.

Jon nodded and stepped aside.

The room was filled with silence, Tyrion broke it with a deep gulp of his wine. 

Missandei opened the door and held it open for Daenerys. Her hair fell in loose silver curls around her face, her eyebrows were knit together in concern.

“Where is Ser Jorah? You said he was already here.” She looked back at Missandei, who stepped aside as a guard entered the room.

Daenerys eyed the guard through a narrow glare as he whispered to Jon that the guards were lined down the hallway, ready for his command. Jon nodded his head and the guard closed the wooden door, standing before it without a word.

“I’m glad you’ve called this meeting, I have something to tell you my Lord.” Dany’s voice was smooth and even, “I want to inform you, that I will be marching my army to the south. Now that you’ve released the other houses and their forces, I will carry on with the war for the iron throne.” 

Jon lifted a brow at her, “Your Grace, there is very little food for me to spare for your vast number of men, horses and dragons. Seeing as you didn’t bring any of your own, they are welcome to stay as long as they might need.” 

“I’m sure we’ll be just fine.” She smiled a smug grin.

Jon had been pacing around the room, his fingers flexed into fists, “I wonder if you might recount your time away from Winterfell to me one more time.”

Daenerys’ smug grin melted into a tight grimace, “I don’t see why, I’ve already told you.” She stood beside Jon, staring at him under her long shapely brows.

“I only want to be certain.” He said, as he made his way to sit behind the desk.

“What is the meaning of this?” Dany asked, looking around at her advisors.

Missandei had been standing beside the guard at the door, she let her crossed arms fall to her sides and sat down beside Grey Worm, never once looking up while she pleaded, “Please your Grace.” 

Dany held her head up high, “Very well. I saw that my dragon was brought back to life as a cold lifeless monster.” She shot her burning glare at Jon for a moment, “I needed time to mourn my child. So I left.”

Jon unrolled the scroll across the dark brown wooden desk, “In your time away, did you happen to find yourself in Kings Landing?”

Daenerys lifted her chin in defiance, “I’ve listened to enough of this- Grey Worm,” she turned to look at him, “Go to Qhono, tell him we ride south tonight.” She turned to leave, stopping short at the sight of the northern guard taking a defensive stance.

"I remember the sack of Astapor, ‘Your freedom belongs to you and only you’ you told us.” He met her gaze, “I wonder if that is still true." Grey Worm said his voice an even tone.

Dany looked at him then at Missandei, who had her gaze cast down all the while.

“Of course it is.” Dany answered kindly.

“If it truly is, we choose to help Jon find a way to defeat the Night King.” He told her. “The dead will not stop after they take the north. They will not stop until we are all slaves in his army or dead in the ice.”

Dany looked as though every bone in her body was on fire, thick tears streamed down her face, “Very well any unsullied who wishes to stay, may stay.”

“And the Dorthraki?” Missandei asked 

“The Dorthraki are my khalesar, they are my blood riders they will not abandon me.” She said her voice sharp.

“Is their freedom not their own?” Missandei asked, still avoiding her Queens’ violet glare.

“The Dorthraki are different.” She spat the words through tight lips.

Missandei and Grey Worm shared a weary glance.

Jon pushed the scroll across the desk where he sat, Dany stomped across the room and picked it up, “Daenerys Targaryen,” she looked up at him wide eyed, “You took part in the destruction of King’s Landing,”

“No-“ Dany cried.

Jon continued, speaking louder so she could hear his words, “You set off the wildfire caches planted beneath the city, killing millions of men, women and children. How do you answer to your crimes?”

Daenerys ripped the scroll in her hands and threw it on the ground, she turned to those that she trusted most in this world, “If you don’t bring me his head this very moment, I will burn you alive!” 

“Do you not see? All of those people you defeated to save us, all of the people you freed in Essos... you have become just like the ones who put us in chains.” Grey Worm’s brows cast a shadow over his eyes, which gleamed through in a blaze of fury, “You are no Mhysa, you are no savior- you are a master.” 

Missandei finally met Danys’ glare bravely. Tyrion’s eyes were filled with tears, he held in his hand a silver pin. The Hand of the Queen’s pin clicked against the wooden desk when he placed it there. 

Daenerys grasped it and placed it into her coat pocket.

“Daenerys of House Targaryen, I sentence you to stand trial for your crimes against the realm.” Jon stood up. 

Jaime jumped out of his chair, “Trial? She should be executed-“ 

“I should be executed?! Your sister is the one who put the wildfire under the city!” Dany shouted fiercely.

“Cersei will answer for her part in it, she will stand trial as well.” Jon assured her.

Jaime stalked to Daenerys’ side, “I stuck my sword through your fathers back when he tried to destroy Kings Landing, I slit his throat to ensure that his plan would never be carried out. And if your dragon hadn’t gotten in the way, I would have gladly speared you in the heart that day on the Goldroad.” His words a little more than a cold whisper.

“That’s enough Ser Jaime.” Jon said as he nodded to the guard at the door. 

Daenerys slammed her hands into the desk and glared at Jon with hatred “You are going to pay for this, I will burn this castle to the ground with you in it.” She said through clenched teeth.

In that moment Jon felt pity for his Aunt, for he knew betrayal all too well. It cut deep like a sharp dagger in the heart, he took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes as the guards marched into the room. The door slammed shut behind the sixth guard to enter. Jon quickly made his way to it.

“Am I to be your prisoner?” She asked coldly, looking once more to her former advisors. They all avoided her gaze, all but Grey Worm, who glowered at her with a frown on his face.

Jon turned to Dany, “No more than I was yours on Dragonstone.” Jon said turning back sharply to open the door. The guards struggled against her for a short time.

“Let go of me!!” She screamed, when she was restrained by one of the guards, “Get your hands off me!!”

They forced her out of the room, Jon followed them down the hall. He descended the stairs to the dungeons, wanting to make certain that Daenerys was put in a cell with proper accommodations. 

“I made sure to have a featherbed put in as well as-“ Jon started.

“You’re good at that, pretending to care for me.” She paused, “You only ever cared about my dragons, what they could do for you.” She said

“Im sorry.” He told her, “I want you to know that I never intended for it to be this way.”

She laughed dryly, “I thought you loved me.”

“My brother Rhaegar named you after our greatest ancestor, Aegon the conquerer. Yet you reject this honor, have you no pride in our family?” Dany asked.

He remained silent, which angered her. 

“Answer me!!” She shouted, her voice echoed throughout the dungeons.

“Aegon tore apart the Seven Kingdoms and forced Torrhen Stark, who is also my ancestor, to kneel before him. He threatened to burn the entire north should they refuse to kneel, he would have turned them all to ash. Torrhen Stark knelt to protect his people, I stand here today because of him, not Aegon the Conqueror.”

“So you choose to embrace your Stark blood.” she presumed. 

“I don’t choose either.” 

“You must choose!” She cried.

“No,” he told her, “I don’t.” He turned to leave, “And I won’t.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jon returned to Sansa’s solar, where he spent many late nights planning for the war by her side. She would lean over the parchment, writing for hours while he read books of battle strategies. That all came to an end when he returned from Dragonstone. He never expected he’d long for those days again. Drinking mead and talking about Arya and Bran, guessing where they might be, what they might be doing. 

Now that Daenerys was being held in a place where she would cause no more harm to the realm, Jon could focus on finding them. 

When he entered the room he noticed a Davos had joined them, he held in his hands a scroll.

Jons belly sunk when he saw it. What now? He wondered.

He opened it and quickly read it. 

“It’s from Arya, they’re heading to Moat Cailin. I am going to tell Dorne to wait for my orders, they will give us a big advantage in the coming wars. I will tell them of the dragonglass cave in Dragonstone. They can mine the remaining glass for weapons.” Jon told them.

“What will you do my Lord?” Davos asked.

“I’m going to Moat Cailin. I need to make sure my cousins are safe. They are looking for a way to stop the Night King.” He answered.

“I’m coming with you.” Jaime stood up.

“We will come as well, Missandei is a very good translator. She could be a great help.” Grey Worm said, Missandei nodded her head in agreement.

”Looks like we’re all going out there, against my better judgement.” Tyrion said with a sigh.

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

**Sansa**

“Drop the anchor!!!!” Euron commanded.

Suddenly a tall pale man jumped off the huge kraken and onto Euron’s longship. Euron ordered his men to shoot it down, the archers tried their best, but Sansa knew it would be useless without dragonglass. 

“The dragonglass!!!” Sansa shouted, she darted down the steps belowdeck and down the hallway. As she ran to her cabin she came to find herself heaving with dread. 

She threw open the door to her chambers as she thought to herself, the undead Kraken meant that Jon had not succeeded in killing the Night King. 

She quickly grabbed the bag filled with the only dragonglass available for miles and lugged it back down the hallway, she could feel her heart thumping in her throat. Jon wouldn’t have stopped fighting until the realm was safe, the only way this could possibly be happening is if Jon was- she gasped and stopped short when a dead man jumped down the steps that lead back up to the deck. He took a few steps towards her before Brienne struck him across the back and he fell with a scream to the ground. Sansa ran to Briennes’ side, “I’ve got it.” She tied the opening of the bag up to secure the dragonglass, and hung it over her shoulder.

They made their way back up to the deck where Euron and his crew were fighting off the dead. 

Euron caught sight of Sansa and quickly ran to her side, “There’s a row boat, we need to get to it now!” He led her and Brienne away from his men, who would soon be turned into one of those things without the dragonglass, “You’re men!! They’ll die if we don’t get them the proper weapons! I haven’t many daggers, but the glass is sharp, it’ll be enough-“

“We’ll need it more than them, let’s go!!” He grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her along.

Sansa looked down at the sea as Brienne and Euron fumbled around to lower the row boat.

“Theyve frozen the water solid!!” Sansa yelled over a huge crash up ahead where the kraken lay waste to the long ship.

“Oh fuck.” Euron turned, his eyes were wild with panic, “We need to take cover!!” Euron shouted.

“Cover?” Brienne asked.

“Get under this boat, hurry!!” Euron urged as he flipped it over.

Sansa ran under it, followed by Brienne. 

“Just what is the meaning of-“ Brienne started, when the ship flew out from under them.

It was so loud that Sansa’s ears rang, she crashed into the freezing water that had just been frozen over. Her eyes were closed shut and for a moment she thought she was surely dead. 

She pictured the table in the Great Hall of Winterfell during a grand feast, her brothers and sisters lined on either side of their parents. She imagined the day she’d lead the Knights of the Vale into the battlefield, of finding Jon in the crowd of the hundreds of warriors fighting for their house. She remembered the way their eyes met as if they had been searching for one another in that moment.

Sansa felt a tug at her foot in the water, she opened her eyes and looked down to a pair of glowing eyes pulling her down into the depths of the deep sea. She struggled against his grasp and pushed it’s face away with her other foot. The moment she felt herself free from it, she kicked her legs and pulled her arms downward as much as the dragonglass bag would allow. 

It felt impossible, she contemplated simply letting it sink down to the darkness of the water.

No- not after everything Jon had done to get it... she kicked harder, seeing a green light shining down from the surface. She released a bit of breath as she propelled her way to the top, drawing a huge smoke filled breath when made it out from underwater. 

She slumped herself over a piece of wood floating along beside her, coughing out the terrible smoke that filled the air. 

She briefly recalled the last time she had been soaked in freezing water, it was when Theon helped her escape Ramsey. The day that she found Jon again, she felt a wave of pain wash across her chest as she realized that he might be gone. 

Breathing became difficult, partly from the smoke, but Sansa knew as she looked around at the wreckage surrounding her that it was because she knew now that Jon wasn’t safe. No body was, for he was the only hope in all of Westeros to end the long night.

A huge green explosion lit up against the sea in a wave of fiery flames. Wildfire, Sansa thought. Just like the green lights above Kings Landing on the night of the battle of Blackwater Bay. 

The blast sent a wall of water in every direction, submerging her into the chilling cold again. This time Sansa held on to the wooden beam with all her might. The bag of dragonglass weighed down on her like an anchor, yet Sansa grasped it still. She floated back up to the surface along with the beam and pushed through the rubble and bodies floating face down. 

She would fight to reach the vales spread out before her, she would do it against all odds. Just as she knew in her heart Jon had done against the army of the dead. She wouldn’t allow herself to believe he had fallen.

 _I’ll protect you, I promise._ His words rang in her head, along with the ringing from the blasts. 

She looked back up in the direction she was heading, and saw to her relief that Brienne made it to the shore of what she said just before the attack, was Ship Breaker Bay. 

When Brienne spotted her, she sheathed her sword and swam to Sansa’s side with ease. Both their teeth were chattering from the impossibly cold wind when they emerged from the icy bay. Sansa let the soaking bag of dragonglass clink to the sandy shore, before she and Brienne slumped to the ground in exhaustion. They huddled together for warmth, though it didn’t seem to be working very well with Brienne’s armor growing colder by the second. It still felt nice to have her friend, a part of her family there by her side. One of the few true knights in all of the realm.

“If you two are done, we’ve got a long way to Casterly Rock.” Euron forced the words out through his shivering teeth.

Of course he made it, Sansa thought. The worst ones always do.

“Lucky for us I’ve sent ships to Storms End before the attack.” He turned and led the way.

Brienne struggled to get back to her feet, picking up the bag of dragonglass and slumping it over her shoulder. She looked back to the flaming fleet that burned bright green behind them. Her eyes widened as she tried to utter something out, but the trembles washing through her body wouldn’t allow it.

Sansa turned and watched as the White Walker riding on the tip of the Krakens head poked through broken wood and fabrics from the sails with his ice javelin.

“Let’s go!” Euron shouted at them with his raspy voice.

Sansa stood up and walked beside Brienne. The cold began to fade as she moved, she looked up at the incredibly large castle spread out before them.

 

 

 

 

 

Euron told Sansa and Brienne that they would soon be leaving that very night. Sansa lost all of her dry clothes in the attack, she was still soaking wet as they wandered the hallways of the massive fortress. 

The doors all looked quite similar, all but one. It was black and worn, Sansa slowly opened it. Inside it was wet and dark, Sansa grabbed a torch from the hallway and led Brienne down the stairway. It seemed to be some sort of dungeon. 

“We should not be here my Lady-“ Brienne started, until she was interrupted by a woman’s voice.

“Lady Stark?” Sansa turned to find the Red Priestess Melisandre. She was thin and pale, her bony face was covered in dirt.

“Melisandre, are you alright?” Sansa asked.

“Yes, My Lady. Euron Greyjoy seized our ship, we were on our way to Winterfell. Lord Varys was to send word to us, we never received it. Euron took our ship and gold as well as Dragon Binder.” She coughed a terrible sound, “The horns’ magic is similar to that which will be needed to forge Lightbringer.”

“Lightbringer?” Brienne asked.

“The weapon that the Prince That Was Promised will need to end the long night.” Melisandre said, “If we ever find a way out of here.” 

“I will send word to Jon that you are here. He’ll save you, I know he will.” Sansa looked around the cell she was being held in and found three men and three women, chained to the ground beside her, “All of you.”

“Storm’s End is impregnable my Lady, it’s never fallen. Not to any man, not to any storm.” Brienne told Sansa. 

Sansa stuck the torch in between two bars on the cell door, “Soon Euron and I will be on our way, I’ll see to it that you are not forgotten down here.”

“I will not forget your kindness, travel with care, Lady Stark. The terrors of the night are stronger now, I can feel it in the chilly air. And Euron Greyjoy can not be trusted.” Melisandre warned.

With a nod, Sansa walked up the dim stone staircase.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Brienne, there is something I must ask of you. I imagine you will not like it very much- still it must be done.” Sansa sat at a table beside a roaring fireplace. 

They heard Euron stomping around, ordering his men to ready the ship. Sansa had taken three dragon glass daggers out of the bag, she handed the remaining glass to Brienne, who looked at her with furrowed brows.

“I am going to leave this dragon glass with you. You’ll need it when they come to rescue the Red Priests.”

“I’m afraid is don’t understand my Lady.” Brienne stood up and aced around the room.

“I need you to stay here, after we’ve gone you must send a raven to Winterfell. If Jon hasn’t stopped the Night King, he will surely be looking for a way. The Red Priests can help him.” Sansa’s voice broke, as it sunk in that this would be goodbye for them.

“No My Lady. I can not allow it- I won’t.” Brienne all but shouted.

“I am not asking.” Sansa said.

“Renely Baratheon was murdered, and I couldn’t do anything to save him. When your Lady Mother was murdered, I wasn’t there.” She had grown bright red with anger, “I will not leave your side I will not allow it! Jon can rescue the Red Priests-“

“You said it yourself Brienne, Storm’s End is impregnable. They’ll need your help from within the castle.” She said, feeling the hot tears spill from her eyes.

“Please, don’t ask this of me. There must be another way.”

“There isn’t. You’re my only hope.” Sansa grasped Briennes’ hand tightly. 

“You’ll be all by yourself out there, with Euron Greyjoy- he lied to you! He told you that he let the Red Priests go free, how could you trust a man like that?” Brienne squeezed Sansa’s hand, pleading with her clear blue eyes.

Sansa pulled out her dragonglass dagger, “I once had a handmaiden named Shea when I was being held by the Lannisters. She once told me never to trust anyone.” She put the dagger back into her soggy cloak, “I never trusted Euron for a second, we need each other and I know he will get me to Cersei.”

Brienne shook her head, her eyes were shining with tears.

“Lady Stark, our ship awaits. We ought to get moving if we want to arrive to Casterly Rock.” Euron’s voice shook them both.

“Lady Brienne won’t be joining us, Cersei doesn’t like her much.” Sansa told Euron.

“She can stay here, she will be given her own bed chambers, and she can sail back to Casterly Rock with my men once Cersei is taken prisoner.” Euron told them.

Sansa looked at Brienne, who reluctantly agreed. 

She threw her hands around Brienne, they embraced tightly, “Thank you Brienne, for everything.” Sansa whispered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sansa stood on the edge of the mast, looking back as she drifted further away from Briennes’ tall silhouette in the window. She knew in her head that she’d done the right thing, the Red Priests knew how to stop the White Walkers, and Sansa had the means to help them. So she did, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)


	21. Retribution

**Daenerys**

The dim light from the guards torches faded, Daenerys lay on a featherbed drifting off into sleep.

“My Queen!” A voice sharply whispered from the darkness.

Her eyes widened and she stood up, “Whose there?” She asked, peering around the cell.

“It’s me.” Jorah stuck his hand out of a cell across the hall from her, she recognized the terrible scars from the grey scale.

“Why are you here?” Dany narrowed her eyes as the sting of betrayal found her again, when all of her advisors turned their back on her.

“Jon and Tyrion approached me about what happened in King’s Landing. I told them that I would die to protect my Queen, should they attempt to put their hands on you.” He looked around, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you- I’ve failed you.”

She hadn’t noticed the tears forming in her eyes, they slowly rolled down her cheek. Footsteps made their way down the steps of the dungeon, Dany quickly threw herself on the bed, pretending to sleep when the light of the torch passed.

“I wanted to let you know I am going to be leaving the castle, I’ve seen to it that you will be kept safe here.” Jon’s voice startled Daenerys, she’d been thinking of what she would say to him when she saw him again.

“You may be the blood of the dragon, but my children will never follow you. I am their mother.” Daenerys said, just over a whisper with her head rested on her crossed arms on the featherbed.

“When the realm hears what you’ve done, they’re going to demand your head. This cell is the safest place for you.” Jon nodded at her and moved to leave.

“Liar.” she cut him with the word as she lifted herself up. Jon turned back around to her, she pierced him with her fiery glare.

He struggled for words, releasing a sharp breath.

“You made me think that together, we could have been something great. But you used me, just like everyone to come before you.” Dany clenched her hands into fists, “You have no honor, you’re a liar.”

Jon held her gaze through the metal bars in her cell, “That was wrong of me.” He hung his head, his grey solemn eyes never left the ground, “I hoped that together we might have saved the realm. I thought you might have seen stopping the Night King, as saving yourself and your people.” Jon shook his head slightly, “I was wrong.” He met her gaze again, “I’m sorry.” 

Daenerys felt a hot pang of anger in her belly, “Stop apologizing!” She shouted as she grasped at the cold rusted bars of her cell door, just inches from Jon, “I trusted you, that was my mistake.” She noticed he wore the furs he never parted with. The neat dire wolf sigil made Daenerys suddenly think of Sansa Stark, “Where are you going?” She asked 

Jon lifted his brow, “I won’t be gone long.”

“It’s the Starks isn’t it? Your family-“ she paused, “I never had that.... Am I not your family as well?” Dany let her arms fall limp to her sides as she watched Jon take a step back.

He remained silent, Dany shook her head and muttered, “No. You don’t want me- nobody does.” She stood firmly on the stone beneath her feet as she lifted her head. “So you’ve chosen your Queen then?” She asked him.

“What are you talking about Daenerys?” He sighed

“You won’t release or fight with me, you won’t fight for Cersei- you won’t even fight for your own claim to the throne. But Sansa Stark... the Lady of Winterfell and her siblings, for them you will give up pursuing the Night King and run to their rescue. I see that you’ve made your choice. And I promise you will come to regret it.”

Jon’s face flashed with anger, he quickly composed himself “I don’t have time to dwell on my regrets, the realm has bled enough for the iron throne. You will stand trial for your crimes after we survive this war.” As the words left his lips he turned and left her in the dark tunnels of the dungeon. The doors slammed shut, echoing through the shadows, she heard Jorah calling out to her.

“I suppose you regret giving that oath a thousand times over by now.” Dany walked to the far side of the cell, “I’m the reason you’re down here.”

She heard him walk to the edge of his own cell, “Not once. I made a vow to die for you, if need be. Whatever may come.” 

“This is where I’ve led you, after everything. You say you’ve failed me?” She lost control and her voice broke, “I’m the one who has failed you.”

“No- Before you, I was lost. Dishonored and exiled from my home. I saw something in you that made me want to fight again- to live again. I saw it even when the dragons were still sleeping in their stone eggs. Drogo saw it too. When others see wrong in the world, they do nothing. But you do. You’re everything a Queen should be. My Queen, I will find a way to get you out of here. I swear it.” 

Jorahs’ voice brought warmth to her heart. Although he spoke empty words, Daenerys still found comfort in them as she paced back to bed. She curled up on the furs, which she’d decided she greatly misliked.

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

**Jon**

“So just to be sure, we’re going out there with only one thousand men? And you’re sure asking your cousins to return is out of the question?” A deep wrinkle creased it’s way across Tyrion’s shiny forehead as he lifted his brows in worry.

“I must find Bran he is the only one who can help me, he’s probably already looking for answers. If they’re going to Moat Cailin, I’m going to find them there.” Jon explained as he rushed down the hallway.

Tyrion struggled to keep up, “What difference would it make if you were to send someone instead? Bran could help him all the same-“ 

Jon stopped walking with a sigh, “I won’t force you to join me.” He hadn’t told Tyrion, about Brans abilities now that he is the Three Eyed Raven. He only trusted very few with the truth of it. 

Jon turned giving Tyrion a hard look, “However, if you do stay, I will be leaving guards behind to protect the castle and to ensure that Daenerys stays in the dungeon. For everyone’s safety, including her own.”

Tyrion sighed, “I know that. You can trust me- I just don’t think it’s the best idea to leave the castle. What if it falls again? You don’t have the men to hold it.” Tyrion asked 

“The castle means nothing if I can’t stop the army of the dead.” Jon told him, remembering how he cleared the courtyard with ease. It seemed the dead couldn’t enter the walls, Jon was sure they could take it back should it fall.

“What of the Dorthraki?” Tyrion, setting his goblet down on the table.

“They were ordered by Daenerys herself to set up camp just outside the castle walls. We have enough food to spare for their stay.” 

“And what of the dragons?” Tyrion asked.

“They haven’t been seen in weeks. We have food to give them as well, should they return.” Jon had already planned every aspect, however the dragons he could never be certain of. He recalled the battle on the Gift, when he helped the green one, Rhaegal. The one Daenerys named after her brother, Rhaegar Targaryen. The dragon even flew Jon over the fire that burned through the woods. He hadn’t been seen since that day. Drogon was the largest, and has the strongest bond with Dany. Jon hoped wherever he might be, that he wouldn’t return.

 

 

 

Jon was on foot as he pulled his horse along by the reins, after a few days on the road his mind drifted. Winter was here, Jon thought. If they were ever to see another spring, the realm would need a ruler. Daenerys would be on trial, as well as Cersei. 

Jaime suddenly jumped off his horse and walked on beside Jon. He eyed him as they walked together.

Jon cleared his throat, “Cersei sits on the throne, when we stop her- you would have a claim to it. You’re a Lannister, and the throne was won by right of conquest. Even your brother and Gendry have strong claims.”

Jaime smirked, ”I had the chance to take the throne the day I killed Aerys.” He limped along under the moonlight, “Cersei would often ask why I didn’t take it for myself that day.” He shook his head and it seemed he was in another place, in some other time, “I didn’t want it. I didn’t want it then, and I certainly don’t want it now.” 

Jaime paused, turning to Jon, “Did you know that Ned had the chance to take it too?.”

”I didn’t know that.” Jon told him, wondering why he’d never heard the story.

”Yes, I sat upon the bloody thing for hours after I broke my vows to protect the King. Blood and corpses lay before me, put there by my own hand. I hadn’t even had the chance to clean off the blood when Lord Eddard Stark, marched into the Red Keep. I joked about keeping it warm, and when he saw I was stepping down from it I looked into his eyes. I saw that he didn’t want it either. And neither do you, it seems.” 

Jaime ran his hand through his beard as he continued, “One shouldn’t rule because they have dragons, they shouldn’t rule because they’ve inspired fear in the people that they might be burned alive with wildfire.” 

Jaime looked at Jon, “Maybe if Ned had just taken the damned thing, everything would’ve been better.”

They continued on down the road in silence which was broken by Beric Dondarrion. He spoke of his love for a Lady he left behind, swearing to find her again someday. He and Sandor Clegane were drunk it seemed, and speaking loud enough for Jon to hear. 

“And when I do find her again, I’ll tell her that she gave this life new meaning. I should have never left her.” Beric sobbed.

Sandor laughed at him howling like a true hound. 

Jon hadn’t noticed that he’d turned to listen to Beric’s drunken words, he suddenly grazed his boot on a rock hidden beneath the snow. Even as Jon moved to steady himself, the words rang through his head. 

_I should have never left her._

 

 

 

Nearly a fortnight had passed when  
Jon finally spotted the long path that stretched out leading to the ruined towers of Moat Cailin. As they walked along the road, Jon spoke to Davos and Jaime about the old stronghold, and how it was used by the First Men. Jon planned on telling Sansa that Moat Cailin should be properly manned. He’d tell her how he was considering sending the Dornish to hold it. As they approached the men standing watch at the gate, Jon recognized Podrick talking to a guard.

Podrick’s beard had grown scruffy and long. He greeted Jon with wide eyes, leading them inside.


	22. Missing Truth

**Jon**

“Jon.” Bran’s voice carried down the hallway. 

Without a word, Jon rushed to his side. Smiling wide as he grasped his shoulder, “Bran-“ he started.

“Jon!” Arya shouted from the top of the stairwell. She bolted down the steps and leaped into his arms. He squeezed his arms around her little torso, feeling warmth in his heart knowing that she was safe.

“You’re here!!” She told him as she hopped back down to the ground.

“I wanted to be here sooner.” Jon said, looking all around the room. 

“You must be hungry! Come, Gilly has made some delicious stew.” Arya said, leading Jon by the arm. 

“Where is Sansa?” Jon asked, stopping Arya in her tracks. 

She turned to look at Bran wide eyed and wordless.

Jon suddenly felt his throat go dry, “Where is Sansa?” He asked again, his voice was colder now.

Arya looked Jon directly in the eyes, “She’s not here.” 

His throat constricted as though some unseen force had taken him by the neck, squeezing so that he could not breathe in or out. 

“She’s with Euron Greyjoy. He’s taking her to Cersei. She wouldn’t allow anyone to go with her, only Brienne.” Brans calm and even voice explained.

“Euron- Kings Landing?” Jon felt his belly twist into a fiery knot. He pressed his snarling lips together, and turned to leave without a word, knowing his anger would cause him to say things he didn’t truly mean. He quickly rushed into some corridor and felt the hot angry tears cut their way down his cheeks.

He imagined Sansa looking up at the sky in fear, the dreadful sound of the dragons’ roar being the last thing she’d ever hear. “No!” He screamed, echoing through the stairwell of the corridor. He slumped to the floor clenching in his fists, the leather harness straps of the cloak she’d made him. He told her that he would protect her, and now she was gone. He didn’t even know it.

The corridor door flew open, “There he is!” Jaime shouted to Arya, as he ran to help Jon up. 

“Seven hells Jon, would you let me explain wh-“ Arya started.

“Yes- explain to me how you could allow this? Kings Landing was destroyed by Daenerys... Sansa, she could be...” Jon couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

**Jaime**

“She never went to Kings Landing. Bran saw her, she’s sailing to Casterly Rock.” Arya explained.

Jaime spoke gently trying to calm Jon, his body shook with quivering sobs, “Cersei is at the Rock, Sansa has Brienne by her side to make certain that dim witted fool treats her with the respect she deserves.”

Jaime suspected that Cersei would have been as far away from the wildfire caches in Kings Landing, the moment Tyrion told him she’d planted them there. 

“Actually, Sansa has ordered Brienne to stay behind in Storm’s End. She is going to help us free the Red Priests.” Arya reluctantly muttered.

“She’s- what?!” Jaime felt his heart pounding in his chest like the rumble of thunder, cracking open the sky to unleash a storm. 

I expect my sister’s wrath will follow me to my grave, he thought. For even as the Long Night raged on and dead men ravaged the realm, Cersei Lannister still found a way to take his heart and crush it in her dainty hands. 

A thousand questions rushed across Jaime’s mind about Brienne, many of which Jon Snow was already asking about Sansa.

“Jon please, Sansa will be fine. She was very confident in her plan.” Arya paused for a moment to look at Jaime, she hesitated, but decided to go on, “We thought of a plan, should anything go wrong. She was to send a raven.”

“A raven?! In the winter?“ he scoffed, “And not just any winter, The Long Night? That’s your bloody plan?!” Jon yelled at the poor girl, who had finally had enough.

Her little face twisted into a disdained frown, “Maybe if you hadn’t been so distracted with the stupid dragons and their insufferable mother, you would’ve seen that Sansa only wanted to protect you!” 

The words were like a crisp slap across Jon’s face. He instantly stood up and sighed deeply. 

“You’re right. Cersei attacked us just like Sansa told me she would- only,” Jon hung his head and shut his eyes, “Only, I wouldn’t listen. She needed me and were was I? Leading good men to die in a war I can’t win.” 

“You did your best, everyone saw that.” Jaime assured him dryly.

Jon nodded at him, he paced around the corridor, ”I’m calling for a meeting in the gatehouse tower. We need to figure out our next move.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

**Arya**

She returned to the training yard where Gendry sat beside his hammer. They’d been sparring before Podrick had announced Jon‘s arrival, Gendry was still glistening with sweat. He looked at her through weary eyes and sighed, as he wiped sweat off his eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d be back.” He said lifting himself off a bench.

“I can’t stay long, I only wanted to tell you that Ser Davos is here.” Arya tore her eyes away from his strong arms, “Bran says we will be heading for Storm’s End soon.” She told him, “Isn’t that house Baratheon’s ancestral castle?” 

“It is.” He said wistfully.

“You could be the last Baratheon in all of the Seven Kingdoms. You could be Lord of Storm’s End.” She half smiled, thinking of how much she’d miss him if he were to go, but still glad that he’d have a place to call his own, “All you’d have to do is-“

“No.” He shook his head, “You know, it’s all very strange. My father was a king, but I’m still a Waters. An illegitimate bastard.” He spoke the words like venom.

Arya laughed, “You’re more legitimate than Joffrey or Tommen ever were.” 

He only smirked, hammer in hand, before he moved to leave the training yard. 

“Gendry!” Arya called after him. He looked over his shoulder, half turned, “Now that Jon’s back, I wanted- well I never thanked you- for staying behind. I know how badly you wanted to fight on the battlefield.” 

He stood in the same place, avoiding her gaze, “Yes, well you asked me to.” He told her, as he turned to leave again.

Arya quickly ran to his side, “That’s why you stayed behind? Because I wanted you to?” 

Gendry finally met her gaze, but it was distant and cold. He nodded his head and made his way around her. 

Arya felt her eyes tinge with forming tears. She choked them back and stomped away to the gatehouse tower in anger. Wondering why he was so grumpy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

**Jaime**

As he looked around the musky stone hall, Jaime recognized what a strange bunch they all were. Beric Dondarrion and The Hound sat at the carved stone table across from Greyworm and Davos. Tyrion, Maester Wolkan and the curly haired young girl, Meera Reed sat across from Sam, Tormund and himself. Bran and Arya Stark sat at the head of the table, opposite of Jon.

“It’s obvious that we should go to Casterly Rock at once. Sansa is there, she’s the Lady of Winterfell. Her safety is of upmost importance. After she is safe, we’ll go to Storm’s End.” Jon told them, as though it had already been decided.

“The Red Priests must be rescued first. Bran says we need them.” Arya was the first to speak.

“Sansa will be safe, I saw it. That will not change so long as we stay on this path... and I can’t go with you, I have to go to the Isle of Faces.” Bran said, his tone was ghostly. As though he wasn’t truly there. 

“I agree,” Jaime heard himself say, “Lady Brienne will be a great help in Casterly Rock.”

“You swore your sword to Sansa. As did Lady Brienne. Don’t you think she’d want you to uphold your vow?” Jon started, “And Bran, you told me you had trouble finding Greywater Watch. It could take weeks to find the Isle of Faces, some believe it to be a myth. That is how difficult it is to find, it might not even be a real place!”

“It is real, and I can find it.” Lady Reed assured him.

Jon shook his head, “It’s in the wrong direction. We need to go to Casterly Rock.”

“Yes, that is why we will go, while you save the Red Priests.” Bran said.

Jon huffed a weary breath that almost sounded like a snicker, “No more separating, we will go- together- to face Cersei.” 

“I thought you were looking for a way to kill the Night King.” Arya asked fiercely, “You can’t let your guilt control you, the Red Priests know magic that no one else does. If Melisandre dies, we all die.”

“Melisandre?! The Red Witch?” Ser Davos asked incredulously, “We would be all the better without her! I suspect she may outlive us all.”

“I agree with Ser Davos.” Tyrion uttered as he stood up to pace about.

Arya nodded to Sam, he placed a book down on the carved table, “Gilly was reading this to little Sam the night we arrived here, it belonged to Princess Shireen.”

Jaime saw Davos flinch as though he been shoved by a grizzly man. His face puckered in a flash, before the old man composed himself.

Jon looked over the open pages before him. Jaime could see it was the tale of the last hero, “The last hero? Old Nan once told me the tale when I was ill.” 

“He spent years searching for the children of the forest. Look here,” Sam pointed to the bottom of the page, “His dragonsteel blade slay the white walkers.”

“I cut him with longclaw, nothing happened. I tried dragonglass, it made no difference.” Jon told him.

“What if dragonsteel is different from valeryan steel? Different from dragonglass? Bran is going to find the Children, and we need the Red Woman’s help. There must be a binding spell- I can’t know for sure- I just think that we should find her and ask her ourselves.” Sam stumbled through the words.

“I thought the last hero died long before the priestesses sailed across Rhoynar.” Jon looked up at Sam from under his brows, “That’s what Old Nan said.”

“Remember how Melisandre beloved Stannis to be the prophesied prince Azor Ahai back when they went to the wall?” Sam spoke in a rush, yet Jon understood every word, “What if this is the same person?” Sam continued, “In my time at the Citadel, I read accounts about Rhaegar Targaryen.”

Jon flinched, tightening his lips into a frown.

“It is said that he too believed in the prince that was promised, Maester Aemon told me that ’The dragon must have three heads’ Jon, what if these are all the same person?”

“What if they’re all different?” Jon asked.

“It doesn’t matter who they are, it’s all connected. The children, the dragonsteel, the sword it’s all supposed to bring the dawn... it has to mean something. We must find Melisandre.” 

Defeated, Jon ran his hand down his solemn face, “Very well, if we go what of Sansa? Theon told me all about Euron, if he’s got her... I have to make sure she’s safe. Even more so if he’s taken her to Cersei.” Jon’s voice was quick and full of despair.

Jaime’s back ached from the continuous ride from Winterfell. He reached across the stone table and served himself a tall cup of mead to ease the pain, “If there’s anything in this world that I know, it’s Cersei. She is playing at something here, she’s told me herself. This game is everything to her. She is with child, yet she is still willing to risk it all. Cersei Lannister is very good at keeping prisoners, she’s been doing it for years. I am certain that Lady Sansa will not be harmed. Cersei wants something, probably a way to secure the North. You need to stay ahead of her, Jon. I know you want to go make sure Lady Stark is well, and we will,” Jaime told him, “But if you make a mista-“

“But?!” Jon laughed dryly, “Horseshit! This is horseshit! I will go by myself if I have to- there’s nothing that the Red Woman knows that the Children of the Forest don’t- if there are even any left.” 

“Cersei Lannister‘s vengeance is matched only by her determination. She will be expecting you to walk right into her trap. She will have her armies ready to strike, her wildfire bottled and ready to burn through anyone who gets in her way.” Tyrion said as he continued to pace.

Jon tapped his fingers to his temple, unable to stop fidgeting, “Would that I knew who Cersei was expecting.”

“It couldn’t be Daenerys, she knows that she’d have brought her nothing but fire and blood. It might however, be you Jon. You were King in the North, chosen by your people. I doubt the news of your mother and father has reached her. As far as she knows, you’re still Ned Stark’s bastard son.” Tyrion said warming his hands against the heat of the hearth.

Jaime shifted in his seat, “She’s merciless, and you should know that who ever it is, will not leave alive. There is a chance that perhaps they will, in which case Lady Sansa might not be so lucky.” 

“That’s not going to happen.” Jon said, through a chilling glare.

“I know who it is she’s expecting. Sansa knew it too.” Arya said, “Sansa said she would work along side Euron. She would tell him to pretend he captured her and he would deliver her as a prisoner. They would stop Cersei, taking her by surprise and putting an end to her reign. As Ser Jaime said, she is with child. Sansa wanted to capture her and give her a trial. In return for his loyalty, Sansa would marry Euron.” 

“Marry Euron?!” Jon jumped out of his chair as though he’d been bitten in the bottom by fire ants. “I’ll kill him.” Jon swore through his teeth, slamming his fist into the table. Jaime felt his cup tremor from the outburst, which surprised him as the table was carved in stone.

It was in this moment that it made perfect sense to Jaime. The irrational anger, the jealousy. Jon Snow was in love with his cousin, the poor bastard.

Jaime looked around the hall. Knowing that he may well be the only one who knew. Everyone in the room might have seen it as Jon simply showing concern for his sister. 

But he knew better than that. If Jaime had found that Cersei were his cousin, instead of his sister all those years ago... they wouldn’t have let anything keep them apart. Why, his Lady mother was his own fathers’ cousin, and they shared a love that turned his father into quite a decent man, of course that all changed the day she died. 

“You want to save Sansa?” Jaime asked him sharply, “You will have to play Cersei’s little games. You can not simply walk into the castle and make demands. Sandor’s brother will tear you in half before you take a single step toward her. No. You will have to be ready, if we have any hope of getting Lady Sansa out of the Rock alive.” 

Jon fumed, slumping his body on to the chair. Arya then paced around the table, where the ma was carved and placed a marker on Moat Cailin. She told them of the plan Sansa had devised, with a bit of help from everyone in the room, they agreed upon a way to bring Cersei down.

It had been decided that Bran would go to God’s Eye to search for the Isle of Faces and that Jon and Arya would leave to Storm’s End after a nights rest. The Starks, the Hound, Jon, Davos, Beric, Sam and Tormund all remained scattered about the room which buzzed with conversation. Everyone else had retired to their chambers for the night. Jaime stood in front of the hearth, intent on finishing his mead. 

“Lady Sansa spent years with Cersei. She and Joffrey tortured Lady Sansa for years when she was just a girl, still she survived them both.” He heard Sandor tell Jon, “I will go with you to Casterly Rock and I will be there to stop my shit of a brother.” 

Jon sat hunched over the table, fingers flexing over themselves and shoulders tense. He hadn’t spoken a word, he nodded to the Hound with a deep sigh and returned to his sulking.

Sam’s face lit up when Gilly walked in carrying upon a tray, a pot of hot stew and a stack of bowls and spoons, “I thought you might be hungry.” She smiled sweetly.

Jaime thanked her and grabbed a bowl, sitting one chair away from Bran Stark, who stared absently at the table. Suddenly Sam set a bowl of stew down before the young man, “You’ve got to eat Bran, it’ll keep you strong.” 

“How have you been my Lord?” Ser Davos asked him, “Last I can recall, you were unconscious in the maester’s turret.”

“I have been better. It almost happened again before we arrived to Greywater Watch.” Bran said, fiddling with the spoon. “I had a vision about the Godswood in Winterfell. The shadow appeared and tried to take me again.”

Jaime sat quietly eating his stew, wondering what in earth he was talking about.

“I thought of my parents, I had a vision of them talking in front of the heart tree as my father cleaned the blood off his sword.” Bran tossed the spoon on the table and it clinked against the bowl, “It drove the shadow away. I don’t know why, but it must have something to do with my mother and father.” 

Beric’s head snapped up from his soup, “These visions, you see them in the fire?” He asked the Stark boy.

“He has the gift of the green sight, it is in the blood of the First Men. Warging is in their blood as well, I’ve known men who could do it.” Tormund explained.

“Green sight? You see the future?” Beric asked.

“Yes. Past, present and future” Bran told him as if it were some ordinary thing.

“And you say your mother drove away this shadow?” Beric continued.

“Yes, I don’t know why.” Bran sighed a shallow breath, “I only know it must be important.”

Beric suddenly stood up from the wooden chair, “If we are to go our separate ways, I will join you Lord Bran.” He paced around the table, “If you believe Lady Catelyn Stark may have anything to do with these disturbances... I must help you find her.”

Bran stared at Beric curiously, though the rest of his face didn’t show it. Arya tilted her head as if the words weighed down on her ears as she heard them. 

Jon spoke for the first time since his outburst, his brows furrowed, “Surely you are mistaken my Lord. Lady Catelyn was murdered at the Red Wedding along side King Robb, his queen Talisa, and their unborn babe.” 

“Aye, that she was.” Beric said, “I found her corpse in the river where they left her to rot. It was I, who shared with her the kiss of life. She rose again, fierce and beautiful in her own right. She is known as the Hangwoman, though I like Lady Stoneheart much better.” He inhaled a sharp breath, “Damned fool that I am, I left her behind in the Riverlands to lead the Brotherhood in my stead. That was a mistake, one that the Lord of Light wishes me to correct, You see, I should have never left her.” 

“You’re mad.” Arya spat, her voice was a low grumble, like the growl of a mighty dire wolf.

“The Lord of Light has a plan for her- I thought it was to lead the Brotherhood” he shook his head, “It is much bigger than that.” 

“That’s enough, perhaps you should retire to your-” Jon calmly started.

Beric swiftly turned to Bran, “Can you see her? Where she might be?” 

“I’d like to get to a Weirwood tree.” He answered, “If the connection is stronger, I could see the paths that fate has laid out for us. If what you say is true, I’ll need the best connection I can manage.”

“You believe this madness?!” Arya shouted, her large grey eyes were wild with contempt for the one eyed man.

“It’s not the strangest idea I’ve heard.” Bran said as he turned to Arya, “If it’s true, I need to find her.”

Arya’s face fell as her eyes tinged with tears, she stomped out of the room before they fell.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo in this fic-verse Beric gave Lady Stoneheart the kiss of life but instead of dying, he survived and also fell deeply in love with her. She leads the brotherhood without banners in the Riverlands. And no one who has met her has told any of the Stark kids until now because it’s kinda hard to tell someone their mom is a zombie lol thank you for reading and dealing with the issues I’ve decided to fix from the show. I wish I could fix it all but I have no time :(


	23. Mother Merciless

**Bran**

He removed his glove when Arya and Jon leaned him against the roots of the heart tree. The solemn face seemed to rest its eyes upon him in the moon light. Bran looked back at the host that waited along the Kingsroad, all of their faces were visibly weary from days of traveling. Bran was glad to have found the godswood, they were in a clearing just outside of where the Twins stood and the snow fell relentlessly in heaps all around them.

“You don’t have to do this.” Arya told him, “Mother has been gone for years, Beric doesn’t know what he saw.”

“If there’s a chance she’s out there, I must know.” Bran said, pressing his hand against the tree.

Bran cleared his mind and sunk into the snowy ground beneath him.

 

 

 

 

 

___________________________________________________________________________

**Jon**

Jon sat beside Brans limp body at the base of the tree.

“So you’re Jon Snow.” The dark haired girl, Meera said to him.

“Aye, that’s me.” He answered.

“I’m Meera Reed.” 

“I know, it’s nice to meet you. I want to thank you for helping Bran beyond the Wall.” He looked at Bran, his eyes were white and his body motionless.

Ser Davos approached them with three cups of hot soup pressed against his chest, he balanced the bottom of the cups on his arm. They each took one, and watched him wordlessly pace to the heart tree, to hand the third cup to Arya.

“My brother Jojen died to get him to the Three Eyed Raven. I often wonder what he might do if he were here, in my place.” Meera took a sip of her cup. She kept her head held high, yet Jon could hear the grief in her words.

“It’s strange isn’t it?” He sighed, “Why do we remain, when others who’ve bled to be here have fallen?” 

Meera turned and looked Jon in the eyes, “I think we’ve all bled, all we can do is try to make them proud.”

Jon nodded, taking a sip of the warm broth.

“My father was there, the day you were born.” She told him.

Jon focused on a rock beside his boot, snow fell upon the stone burying it beneath an icy layer.

“He told me that he met your mother, lady Lyanna Stark.” She continued. “She rescued him when three squires of three great houses were pummeling him. He always admired her for the bravery she displayed. He believes you to be the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms.” 

Jon scoffed. He didn’t mean to, yet it slipped out all the same. 

“You disagree?” She raised a brow at him.

He flexed his fingers around the cup in his hand, feeling the warmth through his glove, “I think there are more important things to worry about at the moment.” 

Meera smiled weakly, “You’re right. Soon we will part ways, I hope that you trust I will look after Bran. The way your mother did for my father.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

She turned to make her way to Arya’s side, eyeing the great tree that towered above them all.

Jon finished the last of his soup, just as Bran whispered something. He turned to find him still laying against the tree.

 

 

 

 

 

___________________________________________________________________________

**Bran**

_Everything had gone dark, and he thought of his lady mother, Catelyn Stark or Lady Stoneheart, as Beric called her. It was as if the roots of the weirwood tree suddenly ripped themselves out of the ground and came to life, pulling him into a different clearing._

_It was the Crossroads, snow fell similarly to the place where he had just been. A woman dressed in a tattered grey cloak stood before two men. The hanged men desperately gasped to fill their lungs with air, their legs jerked in every direction and Bran looked away from the agonized expressions on their faces. He saw they wore red chest plates and cloaks with golden Lannister lion sigils, their boots were missing and one of them had no trousers on._

_Bran could hear the voices of men, laughing and drinking nearby. The woman in grey never turned away from the hanged men, all Bran could see was her long thin white hair whipping wildly in the howling wind around her begrimed hood._

_Could it be mother? Bran thought._

_And as if he had called out to her, she sharply turned around. He quickly looked down at the dirty rope in her blackened hands and slowly lifted his gaze to where her rotted flesh hung from a deep gash across her neck. The hood of her cloak framed her face, bone white and torn apart from dried up black scratches down her cheeks. Her eyes were fixed on something he could not see, they shone red in the snowy night. Bran could see the light of a nearby fire reflecting off of her malicious glower._

_‘Mother?’ He whispered._

_And for a moment, her glare shifted into a soft gaze. Bran wanted to tell her that he was going to find her, but it was then that he realized he was inside of the heart tree._

_Lady Stoneheart reached out to the face etched into the tree and Bran felt his eyes well up with tears._

_A man from the band she led called out to her and the fierce fire returned to her eyes._

_She wrapped a woolen scarf around her neck and turned to the men who gathered by the fire._

_Bran quickly shut his eyes and pulled away._

_____ _

_____ _

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

 

 

 

He opened them with a wheezing gasp, his whole body jerked off the ground. 

Maester Wolkan took Bran by the shoulder, looking at his eyes to make certain that he wasn’t having another attack. Arya and Meera sat on one side of him and Jon on the other.

Arya’s eye were wide with fright, “Bran are you alright? You’re crying.”

He touched the tears as began to freeze in place. How long had it been since he last cried? 

“I’m fine.” He said. 

Beric, Jaime and Davos rushed to his side, after they had caught sight of the others crowding around him.

“Did you find her?” Beric asked, his eye gleamed with hope.

“I did.” He answered.

“I found Mother, Beric was right. I saw her.” Bran told her.

Arya’s grimaced, it seemed as though she was about to say something, if only her lip would stop trembling.

“She’s not Lady Catelyn Stark anymore. The Lord of Light has changed her. She’s Lady Stoneheart now.” Beric said.

“No. She’s still in there. I saw it, she is different-“ Bran met Arya’s gaze, “And she is still our mother. Deep down inside. She’s not entirely lost.”

Arya’s tears had already turned to frost on her lashes, “Is she in pain?” She murmured as she rubbed the newly frozen tears away with the back of her gloved hand. Jon came to her side, to offer an embrace. She slumped into his arms and he gently rubbed her back as she pressed her face against his chest.

“Not in the way you think.” Bran said, “All she has is pain- from all that she’s lost. She turned it into rage and hate. She will not rest until her purpose has been fulfilled.” 

Jon frowned, “Is her purpose to hang me from a tree?” 

“No. She wants to hang him from a tree.” Bran nodded to Jaime Lannister.

Jaime’s gaping mouth twitched as he stammered, he collected himself with a deep sigh, “Fuck.” He simply uttered.

“Not just you, she wants to hang anyone who had anything to do with the Red Wedding. The Boltons, Lannisters and what ever is left of the Freys. She doesn’t care if they were directly involved.” He told them, ”She’s near the Crossroads Inn. She takes children who’ve been orphaned by the war there, the way her own children had been. She’s still Catelyn Stark, we need to find her.” 

“I agree, we’re not far. Let’s go.” Beric turned to the clearing where their small host sat around a fire, sharing stories, soup and mead.

 

 

 

 

 

Meera mounted her horse, while Maester Wolkan tightened the straps to Brans saddle. Beric was already pacing his horse around restlessly.

“Don’t forget to look ahead of the road you’ll be traveling on through animals. The dead are scattered all around and always keep your dragonglass close.” Arya knelt down beside Bran’s wheeled chair, she blinked as if some small speck had landed in her eyes. She cleared her throat, “When you find Mother-“ she sniffed, “See to it that she’s comfortable. She’s suffered enough.” 

“You should go with him.” Jon said.

“I want to.” Her gaze lingered on Brans furs, “It’s not about what I want, it’s what I must do. I must go to with you.”

“Arya, I can find another way-“ Jon started.

“No. I must do this. I’ll see her again, when we meet with Bran in Moat Cailin. Sansa will be there too, that‘ll please her.” Arya said through a wry smile.

Bran felt his breath tremble as it left him, he hadn’t noticed his fists were clenching until the pain shot its way up his arm. Of course it would please her, he thought bitterly. Lady Catelyn loved her daughters dearly. So dearly, that she left her unconscious son in Winterfell to look after her youngest and rushed south the moment they were in danger. 

Bran sighed deeply, vapor rising into the dark sky. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind, as he usually did. There were more urgent matters at hand, “We’re taking one of the carriages, Maester Wolkan has packed it with some rations. We’ll take her to the inn, it should be comfortable enough.” 

Arya nodded and held him tight in her arms. 

Jon met Brans gaze, “The day Sansa left for Winter Town, I sent Ghost to look after her. Do you think you might be able to-“ he struggled to find the words, “Warg in to him, to make sure that he’s still taking care of her?” 

Bran agreed, he sat back in his chair and pictured the great white wolf in his mind.

 

 

 

_He was in another place now, it was dark and there were echos surrounding him that Bran could not place. His eyes snapped open, through the dim light of what Bran could now see was a cave, he looked around and saw sleeping wolves slumped over each other. They were asleep, the echos filling the freezing stone cave came from their breathing, there were so many different sizes and colors. He padded around the sleeping wolves and stopped when he spotted one that stood out from the rest. Nymeria, Bran realized. As he thought her name she awoke. Slowly stretching to arch her back tall as a mountain._

 

 

 

Bran pulled back into himself, and found himself back in his chair. 

Jon nervously lingered beside him, “Are they safe?” He asked.

Bran wasn’t sure what to say, he looked at Arya standing beside Jon, “He isn’t with Sansa.”

Jon’s nose flared, and he huffed a defeated breath.

“He’s part of a pack, they were asleep in a cave. It must have been a hundred of them, led by Nymeria.” He said.

A smile flashed across Arya’s face, “I miss her. It’s good to hear she’s not alone out there.”

Jon however, did not smile. He only sighed, “Thank you. He’s never been part of a pack, I’m glad he hasn’t gotten into any trouble with the dead. I’ll see you soon, Bran. Stay warm and travel safe.” Jon patted his hand against his shoulder and pulled him into an embrace. When he stepped back, he and Maester Wolkan helped Bran into his saddle. Sam was the last to say goodbye, he looked up at Bran with a kind smile, “Remember what we talked about, this darkness you carry in your visions- you have to try to understand it.” 

“He knows that Sam.” Gilly teased, “Take care m’lord, don’t forget to eat!”

Bran nodded.

“If you find any Children of the Forest in the Isle of Faces, have them tell you everything they can remember of the way they and the first men ended the Long Night.”

“I will, goodbye Sam.” Bran told him. 

“Goodbye.” Sam led Gilly back to the clearing with his hand on her back.

“Shall we start down the road my lord?” Wolkan asked.

“Yes.” Bran answered and off they rode. Meera’s horse kept the same pace as Bran’s for a time, before rushing ahead past him. Lord Beric charged ahead of all four of them and Maester Wolkan urged the two horses pulling the wagon, to run as fast as they could.

 

 

 

 

 

___________________________________________________________________________

**Jon**

He could hear his leather gloves squeaking from his hands flexing over themselves. Jon hoped to hear that Ghost was at Sansa’s side and when he did not, it upset him more than he thought it could. He wasn’t upset that Sansa had probably sent him away, to carry on her bloody plan alone and he wasn’t upset that Ghost hadn’t followed her despite her wishes.

Jon was enraged at himself. For failing over and over again. He didn’t know how to stop the Night King, or that Daenerys lived by the Targaryen house words. He didn’t know that Sansa would hand herself over to Cersei, or that Ghost would be unable to remain beside her. 

“We should rest Jon. We’ll leave the moment we wake up.” Arya said from behind him. She yawned and turned to the crackling fire that danced in the clearing, casting shadows all around the trees. 

Jon knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he’d only lay in his tent and stare up at the top of it cursing himself for being such a damned fool.

Sam and Gilly passed beside him, talking amongst themselves. Jon turned to get one last look of Bran, as he rode into the dark. 

Jon decided he’d start packing up the wagons. It would keep him busy and he hoped it might make him tired. He saw some books scattered about on some crates that had been turned on their sides to be used as tables. 

After stacking a few on his arm, he heard Sam’s voice call to him.

“Jon?” He asked, “You don’t have to do that. Aren’t you tired? When was the last time you slept?” 

Jon looked down at the stack of books pressed against his chest, “There’s no time, if I start picking up camp now, we can leave sooner.” 

Sam’s face twisted in confusion, “I see.” He uttered, “Would you like some advice from an old friend?”

Jon blinked, “Not really. Now if it’s all the same, I’ll put these in the wagon.”

Sam shrugged, stepping aside. Jon took the stack of books to the wagon and placed them neatly in a corner. He turned to find Sam approaching carrying the wooden crate in both hands. 

“You Starks are so gloomy.” He placed the crate in the wagon and pulled the huge cloth over to protect from the falling snow.

“I’m not a Stark.” He said.

“Right, my mistake.” Sam said dryly.

Jon sighed, leaning up against the wagon, “I’m sorry Sam. I’m just so tired of- failing, at everything.” 

“Failing? Jon, you’ve done more than most men could have dreamt of even attempting. You drove a dragonglass dagger into the Night Kings heart, and lived to tell the tale!” Sam mused.

Sam’s kind words only made Jon feel all the more guilty. Here was a man who had lost his father and brother quite recently, going out of his way to offer Jon kind words. 

“I never thanked you, or apologized.” Jon said, “I’ve been a terrible friend to you Sam. You looked after Arya and Bran-“

“They looked after me, more like.” Sam laughed.

“Still, I would understand if you couldn’t forgive me.” Jon continued.

Sam leaned against the wagon beside him, “If you keep carrying all this guilt and anger, you’re going to wear yourself out. Then you won’t be able to make right, all of the things you apologize for.”

Jon smirked, “I don’t deserve a friend as good as you.” 

“I remember the day you stood up for me back at Castle Black. I felt like i didn’t deserve your kindness. Not after everything my father had said to me, before sending me there.” Sam turned, holding Jon’s gaze.

“I’m sorry. What happened to your father and your brother, it wasn’t right. I should have had Daenerys held prisoner the day Jaime Lannister told us what she did to them.” He sighed again for what must have been the thousandth time, “I was so sure that if I appeased her, she would fight with us until the army of the dead was defeated. I lost sight of everything that truly mattered, all so that the Mad King’s daughter and the Mad Queen could kill a million innocent people in King’s Landing.” 

Sam furrowed his brows, “You’re right. My father was a cruel man, but he and Dickon didn’t deserve to be burned alive. I was a bit upset that you didn’t seem to care, I thought you might be so in love with the Dragon Queen that you didn’t find any wrong in her actions.” Sam paused, “But I thought to myself, ‘this is Jon Snow!’ Every thing you’ve ever done, was because you thought it was the right thing to do. Even if it gets you killed!” 

Jon winced at the memory.

Sam went on, “Even if it is the last thing you want to do- and that’s not because you’re a fool Jon, it’s because you are a good person. My father and Dickon didn’t deserve to die. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve forgiveness. You have mine. Now comes the most difficult part- forgiving yourself.” 

Jon felt his throat tighten, he steadied his breathing and threw his arms around his best friend’s shoulders, “Thank you.” He whispered, before letting him go. 

“I hope Sansa might feel the same way. I promised to protect her, and I’ve failed at that too.” Jon could not seem to get her out of his head.

“The last time I saw you this upset was when you returned from your time with the Free Folk. I worry about you, Jon. You need to take care of yourself, only then could you have the strength to keep your promise.” Sam pushed himself away from the wagon, “I am very grateful for all that Lady Sansa has done to help my mother, and sister. I received word from them in Moat Cailin. I told them I’d be there for some time, and they promptly responded. My mother says that Lady Sansa sent fifty northern men, along with food stores and furs. She sent instructions on making winter clothes that have helped immensely. Do you know that food is very hard to find in the Reach? After Daenerys destroyed the food that the Lannisters seized from them, there was nothing left for the common folk to trade between the Reach and King’s Landing.” He looked down at the ground, “When it was still around, that is.- I get distracted, Sansa Stark helped keep what’s left of my family alive as well as their servants and the surrounding houses. I’m grateful for what she’s done. It makes it easier for me to know they are well protected, not all alone to fend for themselves through the Long Night. She’s a good person too, I’m sure she’ll understand that you were only doing what you thought was right.”

Jon smiled with pride, she really is an incredible woman. 

“So are we going to look for more books and crates to stack into the wagon? Or can we try to get what few hours of rest we can manage, before we take to the road for endless hours?” Sam asked through a warm smile, as he made his way back to the fire.

Jon couldn’t help but laugh, “It was helping to take my mind off things.” 

“I’m sure Tyrion’s got a bottle full of wine that could help just as well.” Sam said over his shoulder.

 

 

 

 

 

___________________________________________________________________________

**Bran**

They arrived at the Inn at the Crossroads. Beric recognized some men who sat outside having a drink, they greeted him with welcome. 

“Lady Stoneheart, I need to see her. Is she inside?” Beric asked.

“I’m afraid you’ve missed her, she went out to the godswood to burn the dead Lannister men she hung yesterday. If we don’t burn them, they turn into one of those monsters.” The bearded man pointed at a trail that led into the woods, “It’s in that direction, if you want to find her. If not, I’m sure she’ll return soon enough.” 

Maester Wolkan had driven the wagon around the Inn, to let the horses rest in the stables. 

Bran was glad he hadn’t dismounted his horse yet. 

“Let’s go- she couldn’t have gotten far.” Beric jumped on his horse.

“Wait!” Meera shouted, “We need the chair.” She ran around the Inn to the wagon. 

“When we find her, let me talk to her first. It might be easier for her to remember, she was another woman when she last saw you.” Beric explained.

“I understand.” Bran said. 

Meera returned with Bran’s chair tied firmly to the horse’s side, she’d placed her leg over it, “Wolkan had already begun to feed the horses. He said he would get everything settled to get us some featherbeds, when we return.” 

Bran nodded and they charged down the road, there was a huge fire burning at the end of the road. Bran fell back, Meera followed. 

Beric leapt off his horse and walked out of sight. 

Meera helped Bran off his horse and into his chair, when they heard Beric struggling and grunting.

“Let’s go!” Meera shouted before quickly pushing Bran through the snowy path. She stopped short and gasped when she caught sight of the woman in grey. 

“It’s her.” Bran whispered. She was holding a thick rope to Lord Beric’s neck, shoving him against the heart tree. The fire roared on before them.

She hissed so loud, Bran could hear it over the crackling flames. 

Beric struggled to breathe, he raised his hands over the edge of the hood of his cloak. Pulling it down so she could see his face.

Lady Stonehearts’ bony hands loosened the grip on the rope she held. Beric huffed with wheezing breaths, steadying himself beside the weirwood tree. 

"I had not thought to find you here, my lady." Beric uttered between breaths. He stood upright and simply gazed at her for a moment. He took her hands in his. The rope she’d been grasping fell to the ground, “So many times I’d hoped for this moment.” He pulled down her grey tattered hood, her hair fell in dry stringy patches of white strands. “Six times I’ve tasted death, all these years I searched for meaning in these lives given to me. My lady, I found it the day I pressed my lips to yours. I’m sorry, I’ve made a terrible mistake. I should have never left your side.” Beric’s voice was soft and kind.

Bran felt a fool for not having seen it, Beric had been in a rush all the way here because he loved her. He briefly wondered if it may have been the last kiss, as Beric called it. Could it have formed a bond between the two?

Lady Stoneheart held her hand up to her neck and gasped an awful sound that Bran could not make sense of. 

However, it seemed that Beric understood perfectly, as his eye lit up with shock, “My lady has found a way to speak.” 

She rasped in jagged breaths again with her hand remaining in place. She traced the black scabs that had slashed across his cheek just beneath his eye patch.

“Thank you, my lady.” He said though a smile, Beric’s eye flashed across the flames to Bran and Meera, “There’s someone I think you might want to see.” He turned to stand beside her and with his hand on the small of her back, he turned her around to face the fire. Her pale milky flesh was unrecognizable from the woman Bran had seen in the vision with his father in the godswood of Winterfell. The vision that drove the shadow away. Her brows were spotted with green and black specs of earth and rot. 

As he led her closer to Bran, he could see her burning scarlet eyes flash with silent recognition. A small hiss escaped her lips, as she looked down at his limp legs. 

Beric let her go and she fell to her knees before him. Gently reaching out to his temple with a trembling moss mottled hand, it was ice cold to the touch.

Bran cleared his mind, time seemed to stand still and everything went out of sight.

 

 

 

 

 

_In his vision, Bran found himself in a tent, he heard muffled voices. They were familiar and just as he recognized them, Robb and Catelyn appeared. They were arguing about Robb sending Theon to ask his father to help in the war._

_It seemed Catelyn was on her way out of the tent, until Robb spoke again, “If I trade the Kingslayer for two girls, my bannermen will string me up by my feet.”_

_Bran could tell from the look in her eyes, that his mother’s patience had reached its limit._

_She turned around to face him, “You want to leave Sansa in the Queen's hands? And Arya- I haven't heard a word about Arya. What are we fighting for if not for them?” She shouted._

_“It's more complicated than that! You know it is.” Robb yelled back at her._

_Silence hung between them like morning fog in a vast field. Bran paced across the tent beside his mother just as she sat down._

_Catelyn took a deep breath, “It's time for me to go home. I haven't seen Bran or Rickon in months.” She told him, softer this time._

_“You can't go to Winterfell.” Robb said, matching her even tone._

_“I beg your pardon?”_

_Shadows danced across half of Robb’s face, “I'll send Rodrik to watch over the boys, because tomorrow, you'll ride south to the Stormlands.”_

_“Why in the name of all the Gods would you-“ She started._

_“Because I need you to negotiate with Renly Baratheon. He's rallied an army of 100,000. You know him. You know his family.”_

_She leapt to her feet, “I haven't seen Renly Baratheon since he was a boy. You have a hundred other lords -“_

_Robb crossed the space between them, “Which of these lords do I trust more than you? If Renly sides with us, we'll outnumber them two to one. When they feel the jaws beginning to shut, they'll sue for peace. We'll get the girls back. Then we'll all go home for good.”_

_She sighed with a nod of agreement, “I will ride at first light.”_

_Robb kissed her forehead and they hung their heads together, not knowing that they would never return back to Winterfell. Not even their bones would make it back._

_”We will all be together again soon, I promise.” Robb told her._

_Mother wanted to go home to us, Bran thought. Arya and Sansa suffered for many years after that. If their plan had worked things might have turned out differently. He never imagined what his mother might have been going through, only what he’d been through. He was angry, jealous and he simply pushed those emotions out of his mind as a boy and all the years that followed. Catelyn was right about the Greyjoys. Robb trusted Theon the same way he trusted mother, how was he to know that he would take Winterfell for himself?_

_His vision quickly shifted, he stood in a room with high ceilings and fine furniture. He hadn’t been there a day in his life, yet he knew that this was the place where his mother grew up, Riverrun. He stood beside his mother Catelyn, when she was still the woman who would scold Bran for climbing the broken tower. She sat on the sill of an open window overlooking a beautiful tree lined river. Behind her, stood her lord uncle Brynden Tully, the Blackfish as they called him. They were talking about Hoster Tully, who had just died. Brynden’s brother, and Catelyn’s father._

_“Every time he would leave for the capital, or fight in a campaign I’d see him off, ‘Wait for me, Little Cat,’ he'd say. ‘Wait for me and I'll come back to you.’” Her face fell and she continued on through her tears, “And I would sit at the window every day when the sun came up, waiting.” She paused, failing to keep her voice from breaking apart, through her guilt._

_“I wonder, how many times Bran or Rickon stare across the moors of Winterfell waiting for me to return. I will never see them again.” She uttered miserably._

_Bran wanted more than anything to reach out and hold her. To tell her that he was sorry- for ever doubting her love for him. It was then that he realized just how many years of her life were spent waiting for the ones she loved. Hoping each passing day, that they might return to her again._

_He took a step towards her, but stopped when he noticed with relief that her uncle Brynden had sat beside her. It brought Bran so much comfort, to know that she was not alone in her time of grief._

_“You mustn’t think it.” Blackfish told her, taking her hands in his, “We don’t know the truth. They could be hiding.”_

_Catelyn looked up at him for a moment, the deep blue rivers flowing from her eyes filled with a gleam of hope. It quickly faded into her deep sobs._

_“Robb believes they’re alive.” Brynden said to her gently, “And he must go on believing. He’s got to be strong if he’s to prevail, and you must remain strong for him.”_

_Bran felt a sob rising in his own throat, as if something inside of him that had long turned to stone was now breaking open and tearing its way out._

_He shut his eyes and his legs gave out from under him, landing in a river under the moonlit night. He opened his eyes in horror, to find his lady mother. She was pale with death and her neck was slashed with a dark red gash. Bran saw a dire wolf come out of the woods, it was Nymeria. She pulled Catelyn Starks’ corpse out of the river._

_The darkness in the woods suddenly began to gather. For the first time since Bran had ever seen the shadowy figure, he was not afraid. For he came to find that it wasn’t some evil force taking his life away, it was his own anger at his mother. It took his memory, because he refused to remember. He refused to understand, or even think of his mother for so many years. The darkness flowed into his mother’s lifeless body, and he wept into his hands._

_Everything slowly disappeared and Bran pulled back._

 

 

 

 

 

Lady Stoneheart drew her hand back to her side, her red glowing eyes searched his face in disbelief in the light of the burning fire.

“Mother.” Bran heard himself say, only he didn’t recognize the thick voice that left him. 

Lady Stoneheart struggled to find the words to say to him, holding her hand up to her neck. She only uttered his name, “Bran.” a hoarse whisper.

He nodded his head, feeling countless trails of tears trailing halfway down his face. They never made it off his cheek, they only froze solid in their place. 

She wrapped her thin frail arms around him. He returned the embrace, she smelled of festered blood and decay. It didn’t bother him, because he never thought it possible to have this chance. Bran thought of Maester Luwin, he thought of Jojen and Summer. Of Osha, Hodor, Shaggydog, Uncle Benjen, Leaf, and the Three Eyed Raven. He pictured Rodrik Cassel, just before Theon butchered his head off. And he even thought of the poor farmers’ boys that were burned and hanged from the Winterfell walls, in him and Rickons’ place. A wave of sorrow washed across his chest as he remembered Rickon’s smile. 

“It’s all my fault.” He whispered. 

Lady Stoneheart released him from her grasp and shook her head, her face crumbling as she let out a gasping sound.

“How many have fallen so that I could be here?” Bran said, finally letting himself fall apart from the loss of everyone who died for him. It was all back now. Every memory taken from him came rushing back and he felt it all as if it were happening for the first time.

Meera had walked around his chair, she too had tears frozen upon her cheeks.

Bran looked right in her eyes, “I’m so sorry. If I could take your brother’s place, I would. He sacrificed everything so I could make it to the Three Eyed Raven. I’m really sorry Meera.” 

She scraped the icy droplets off her face and rushed him into her arms. She hugged him fiercely and Bran held her in the sweetest embrace.

 

 

 

 

 

___________________________________________________________________________

**Sansa**

Sansa sneaked out of her cabin, she had tied the scroll to the ravens’ leg telling Jon of the Red Priestess and how she’d claimed to know the way to stop this endless night. 

Sansa snuck across the deck, holding the struggling bird in her hands, hidden in her cloak. The moon was almost full, it was out and glowing bright in the sky. 

With a deep breath she released the raven, watching as it spread its wings. It soared up high into the night sky and started to make its way north. 

She envied it, for he was on his way Winterfell. The place she’d hoped she never had to leave again, yet here she stood- so many miles away from home. She watched it’s shadow fly across the bright crescent moon and gasped in terror as it was shot out of the sky by an arrow. It landed into the water with a splash, Sansa grasped the wooden beam before her, “No!” She said in a coarse whisper.

“Now what was that raven carrying, Lady Sansa?” Eurons’ voice shook her.

“I was only trying to tell my family that I am alright. Why would you do that?!”

“We don’t know if those things can read, there are enemies all around us, word does not come in or out of this ship.” He explained.

Sansa wished she could slap him across his sneering face, she clenched her hands together. She was entirely in his control, as he saw it. One wrong word could mean that all of this was for nothing.

“You’re right my lord, I’m a fool. The dead have a way to turn anything into one of their own.” She said to him, “If I may ask my lord, when will we be arriving to Casterly Rock?”

“Any moment now.” He said. He gave the man who‘d shot down the raven a look and the man walked off.

Sansa kept her eyes wide and forced a smile, “I want to thank you. What you’re doing for me- for the entire country- you’re very brave.” She lied.

Euron descended the steps that led to the deck where she stood, he smiled sweetly, “You are very brave as well my lady, not many people have the courage to face Cersei. When you came to me with your proposal I was a bit taken aback and that’s when I saw that you would make a perfect bride for me. You see, we are the same. We want to save the Seven Kingdoms from madness.”

Sansa felt her belly twist into a knot.

Euron continued, “Cersei is misliked by half of the country and Daenerys is misliked by most all of it. And you, Sansa Stark, you are loved by your people. I know I’ve made the right choice. Still I hope you know, that if I find you ever keep anything or work against me, I will have to-“ he searched for the kindest words possible, “I will have to kill you.” He flashed an awful smirk at her, “I plan on ruling these kingdoms. By myself if I must- but I assure you that I will sit on that throne.” 

Sansa looked down at her feet, “I would never stop you from doing that, my lord. I don’t care much for the throne, I only want Cersei to pay for her crimes against the realm.” 

Euron searched her face for any hint of deceit, but Sansa had been doing this most of her life. She met his gaze with her best mask, the one that was made of steel. She wondered why anyone would want to sit on the throne, or if it even still stood. If it somehow survived the destruction on King’s Landing, it would tower over nothing but ash and rubbled ruins.

He nodded his head, “And so she will.” He told her, moving to return to his cabin.

“Euron?” She called after him.

He stopped in his tracks and turned back to face her.

“There is one more thing I must ask of you.” She said as kindly as she could manage.

“And what’s that?” He all but sang.

“I have been giving much thought to how exactly I would go about taking Cersei down.” She took a deep breath, “I’ve settled on essence of nightshade. Three drops in her wine ought to be enough to put her to sleep. Together we will ensure she is restrained, so that when she awakes-“ 

“She’ll be no threat.” Euron presumed. 

“Yes my lord, only I haven’t any essence of nightshade.” 

“I understand. I happen to know where her hand, Qyburn keeps his potions and poisons. I can get it to you.” He told her, his blue eyes gleamed sincerely in the moonlight. Sansa reminded herself that he was not a man of honor, no matter how badly she wanted for him to be. He sought after power and anyone who wished to gain power over helping the people of the realm, rarely cared about much other than themselves.

“If you can get it to me, I can slip it into her drink. She would never suspect me since I’ll be her prisoner and her wine would have already passed though her tasters.” 

“I think we are going to be the greatest rulers these lands have ever seen.” He declared, before walking off.

Sansa was stung by his words. The thought of having to sit beside that man for the rest of her days. She swallowed back the urge to cry, burying it deep behind her pride. There was still so much to be done, she would not allow herself to crumble now. Not when she was so close. 

Sedate Cersei, have Euron’s men toss her in the dungeon and send word to Winterfell that Cersei was no longer a threat. Sansa only hoped that the Golden Company would not suspect anything until after the northern reinforcements had arrived, taking them by surprise. 

Sansa softly gasped at the sight of Casterly Rock materializing from the shadows of the sunset sea. It almost looked as if the fortress was floating above everything in the world. She recalled learning that House Lannisters’ ancestral home was one of the most formidable castles in all of the seven kingdoms. The rock it was built upon was said to look like the shape of a resting lion. 

Sansa looked on through her steel mask, ready to face the lioness of Casterly Rock, who had brought her so much pain and suffering in her younger years. Only this time, she would not flee from her jowls. For she was no longer the helpless pretty little dove, she was a she wolf of Winterfell with fangs of her own. And perhaps she had always been, Sansa thought. Only now she knew it in her heart to be true.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I feel like Bran must have repressed his anger and misunderstanding through the years, which is how the whole shadow vision taking bits of him was born in my mind. I used some inspiration from Beric losing parts of himself with every resurrection and changed it in a way to fit bran in his visions. So every time he had a vision that led him to think of his parents, Catelyn in particular, he’d lose memories that defined him. And it would keep happening until he finally dealt with it and understood that although his parents left him alone in the world, he still is a Stark and his upbringing has everything to do with that. I hope that all translated into my attempt to fix the emotionless robot that they’ve written Bran out to be in the show. Thank you for bearing with me through the wildness and thank you so much for reading.


	24. Fire and Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I’ve taken so long on this. Im exploring a new POV that I’ve been so excited for!! I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!!

**Daenerys**

She pushed off the fur blankets she had been wrapped in, feeling the sharp air against her skin.

“I’m going to die down here.” Her voice echoed off the walls.

“You mustn’t think that way.” Jorah told her, he paced along the wall of his cell.

Dany recalled the guards who had been watching over her. Their conversation was all she had to escape from this cage. 

They whispered of her father Aerys, one of them lost his father in the rebellion. They spoke of her brother too, they wondered if the Stark girl truly loved him.

They lost themselves, much like she had lost herself. Trusting the wrong people, just as her father did. She fell in love and lost everything she’d worked for just as her brother had.

Dany looked about her cell with disdain for the stone and iron surrounding her. She wondered every day what it was that Jon had promised the Dorthraki. Was it land? Holdfasts? 

She expected them to demand their Queen, to storm the castle until they found her. It never happened.

“Ser Jorah, do you think I was a good Queen?” Dany walked to the edge of her cell, as close to him as she could get.

“I think you did what you had to do. You were- you are a great queen.” He spoke softly.

“So long as Cersei is dead, it was worth it.” She said remembering Jaime Lannister’s outburst when she’d been sentenced before her own advisors.

Daenerys reached into her cloak, grasping the silver pin that Tyrion had returned to her that day. Jon hadn’t thought to search her cloak before tossing her away, “You have proven to be a loyal advisor, Ser Jorah. For what it’s worth, I have a gift for you. If you’ll have it.”

Jorah stood as close to her as his cell would allow him, his face lit up against the torch nearby. His brows knit together in curiosity.

Dany gently tossed it in his direction. He caught it in one swoop of his hand. 

“You honor me.” His voice was thick, it echoed across the distance between them.

“I’m the one who is honored, having you to guide me all these years. I doubted you, yet here you stand- I never saw that all you ever did was care for me-” 

Suddenly a deafening boom from outside the thick walls shook everything around them. 

“Are you okay?!” Jorah asked her picking himself off the ground.

“Yes I’m-.” She began to answer.

Another boom shook through the dungeons, and they continued on like the beat of war drums. Two guards burst through the doors that lead to the dungeon. 

“We moved the injured Dorthraki into the great hall. The dead can’t enter the castle walls, and we can’t give them a single living man. They already outnumber us they- there’s too many! We need to run.” One of them said, desperately clutching an obsidian dagger.

“We will be safe inside the walls of the castle Lord Snow told us of the last time the dead took Winterfell. We have orders to hold it and protect the refugee, and the prisoners. Thats what we need to do.” He drew a silver javelin with a dragonglass tip from the scabbard strapped to his back. 

The man with the dagger trembled in fear with each booming beat, “They have giants! How can we hold the castle against them?!” 

The guard with the javelin took his partner by the shoulders, “We do the best we can. They might not even make it past the gates.” 

“I’ll stay here, you go on then.” He said, his daggers shaking wildly in his hands. 

“It seems you were right my Queen,” Jorah shouted, “The dead have come and that dull fool Snow left a couple of green boys to protect us, rather than real men.”

Daenerys felt her heat thumping against her chest, it was so quick that it almost matched the pace of what could only be the giants banging against the walls of Winterfell.

“What did you say?” The cowardly guard held his dagger firmly and stuck out his chin.

“Pay him no mind-“ the other man shouted before a huge rumble shook bits of stone off the ceiling above the dungeons.

“Worst than green boys. A pair of bloody women, more like.” Jorah sneered.

Dany’s head snapped to look at him in disbelief. What was he doing?

The fuming man balled his fist around his dagger so hard, his knuckles turned red. He stomped to Jorahs’ cell and grabbed him by the collar of his woolen cloak. 

Daenerys gasped as Jorahs’ head rang into the iron bars of his cell, “Stop!” She cried.

But it was too late. The dreadful bloody gargle was enough to make her fall to her knees. She was truly alone now.

Dany felt a pang of sorrow in her aching heart. Rather than letting her self crumble, she sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to crawl to the edge of the cell.

“No!” The other man screamed, “What have you done!?” He bolted past Daenerys’ cell.

She squinted through the tears filling her eyes to watch the fearful guard’s shoulders slump down. His body jerked wildly as he struggled to breathe, choking on his blood with each attempt.

Dany grabbed the bars in front of her and pulled herself up. She was stunned to see Jorah, his arm drenched in blood gleamed in the fire of the torch beside him. 

A huge crash from the madness of the battle taking place just above shook through the castle, Dany let her hands fall away from the freezing cold bars. 

The guard held the dying man as he took his last breaths, his face streaked with tears, “I’m sorry.” Dany heard him whisper hoarsely.

He pulled his eye lids shut before slowly standing up with his spear in hand, “You’re dead.” He uttered.

The guard drew back his javelin and jabbed it at Jorah through the slim spaces of his cell. Jorah gracefully dodged it and pulled it free from the guard’s grasp. 

The man’s face twisted into a panicked glare, “No matter, spears are not my weapon of choice.” He grunted, jangling through the keys. He let them dangle in the key hole as he unsheathed his sword, “When I’m done with you, I’m going to kill you’re precious queen.” He breathed, twisting the key and kicking the door open. 

Dany felt her palms bead with sweat. In one swift move, Jorah knocked the torch off the wall with the spear he’d taken from the guard.

Daenerys heard herself scream in the darkness, she watched intently as the shadows danced to the music of clinking steel in the dying flames of the torch. 

Suddenly there was desperate thumping at the door that lead down into the dungeons. The fighting in Jorah’s cell stopped abruptly- there was nothing but darkness.

She felt as helpless as she did the day that Viserys told her he’d sold her to Khal Drogo. She found herself on the ground again, hugging her legs into her chest. 

The banging on the door had broken it down, just as the echoing sounds of another dying man rang in her ears. There were more guards shouting and more fighting- Dany closed her eyes feeling the rush of her blood pulsating under her skin. 

Dany thought of the House with the red door. She wished with her whole heart that she and her brother had been able to stay there. She wished that she might have grown up there, she wished for home. 

The clinking of swords had finally ended, yet Dany could hear it buzzing numbly in her head still. 

Heavy footsteps approached her cell and she heard the jingle of keys. The door burst open, “I swore I’d get you out of here your Grace.” Jorah heaved in shallow breaths. 

She lifted her face in disbelief, “I thought I’d lost you.” She threw her arms around his strong shoulders in a blissful embrace 

“Thank you.” She whispered over and over again against his damp bloodied tunic, “How did you-“ she searched for the words.

He stepped back from her and dug into his trousers. He pulled out the silver pin, the one she had just given him. It gleamed red with blood, she took it from his hand. 

Walking it over to her featherbed, she wiped it clean on the blankets there and looked closely at the sharp tip of the pin, “I’ve lost all of my advisors, all of my armies, my dragon.” She fastened the pin just over his heart, “You’re all I have left.” 

He looked directly in her eyes and for a moment Daenerys thought he might kiss her. She moved her lips aside and planted a sweet kiss upon his stubbled blood soaked cheek. 

She stepped away from him and grasped his right arm. 

“Agh-“ Jorah groaned when she scraped against a squishy gash on his side.

She quickly looked and found that his dry scale scarred skin had been cut deep. She looked all around the long cut, it looked even bigger and deeper than the one that had killed Drogo. 

“You’re losing too much blood!” Her voice surprised her with its shrill tone. She ran back to her bed and yanked off the white sheets. She wrapped them all around his torso and tied it tight. 

“If we’re to get out of here we need to blend in.” She breathed, leading him out of the cell. 

Dany unclasped two fur cloaks off dead men and wrapped her hair in a dark cloth she had taken out of what little belongings she had. She threw on the cloak and helped Jorah with his own. 

Daenerys helped Jorah up the stairs and down the crowded hallway. They quickly rushed through a wooden door. 

She could hear the crashing of weapons through the walls, “I know the way out.” She told him, remembering a time she’d gotten lost in this Keep.

She led him back out into the crowded hallway, keeping their heads low. She ducked them through another door. Just as Dany remembered, they were outside. 

“The guards said that the castle is safe.” Jorah told her, holding out his arm to guide her back in.

“No.” She cupped her hand over his, “I will not spend another day in that cell.” She looked at him when she heard he was about to question her decision. 

Jorah released a defeated huff, looking ahead at a group of no more that twenty deserters. She recognized her own men, Dorthraki pulling along horses and wagons. They were dressed like the northerners that ran alongside them, these were no longer her men. 

“We run through the woods.” Daenerys said through her teeth, pulling Jorah along behind her.

She pulled the shawl around her head closer, so no one would notice the rage in her glare.

The deserters stopped in their tracks, some screamed while others drew their weapons to fight. Dany squinted against the flurry of snowfall and gasped when she saw dozens of pairs of glowing ice, emerging from the edge of the woods. 

Soon the fighting began, Dany froze, unable to hear whatever Jorah was shouting. A few men escape into the darkness of the woods, but they were simply too far away from the trees.

Daenerys felt her eyes freeze up with fresh tears. She grabbed Jorah by his shoulders and slightly shook her head. 

He fell silent and closed his mouth. His grasp on his sword tightened as he turned away, determined to take down as many of the dead as he could manage.

The fighting ended all too soon, they were coming for her now. 

In the distance, she heard a familiar sound. Something inside of her shifted all of the fear into a rush of excitement when she heard Drogon again, closer now. 

She shouted at Ser Jorah to run, just as Drogon lit up the night sky with a burst of fire. 

Dany looked up at Drogons’ shape in awe as he flew over the burning trees.

“Get down!” Dany shouted, and Jorah threw himself to the ground.

Drogon burned through the remaining dead men turning them to dew. Her heart swelled with pride. The furs of the cloak she’d been wearing caught in the embers and burst into kisses of flames. She was free!

“He’s come to save his mother.” Jorah said as he rose up.

She shed the cloak unraveling her hair from the cloth. Drogon landed just before her with a thump. He shrieked fiercely, strong and beautiful. Dany smiled for the first time in weeks, beneath her shawl. She was reminded of what she was, the Mother of Dragons.

“Come, we need to get you help.” She shouted to him as she climbed onto Drogon’s back.

Jorah climbed on and grasped both arms around her with a grunt. She could feel the wetness of his blood already seeping between them.

Drogon spread his wings and soon they were flying above the castle. Dany looked down to find a growing swarm of those terrible dead things. 

The gates had broken down into rubble, yet the dead would not cross into the courtyard. She wondered how they were holding the line at the gates, it seemed a losing battle. She’d expected they have broken through by now. Even the creatures could not make their way into what looked to her like some sort of invisible barrier.

Drogon screeched, the faces of the living and dead alike looked up at her briefly before continuing their fighting. And for a moment Daenerys Targaryen intended to melt the monsters away into steaming puddles. 

She pursed her lips together when she caught sight of Qhono, the Dorthraki commander who she’d placed so much trust in. He was covered in northern fur, fighting fiercely at the gates of Winterfell. She wondered how hard he’d fought when he was told that his queen would be held prisoner. How hard had he fought when Jon offered him whatever it was that he was promised?

Dany has always believed herself to be the last dragon. She’d lost sight of her dreams, fire and blood, she told herself.

Drogon circled around the battle at the gates, Dany looked down once more. Her breath caught in her chest, for looking up at her with deep hard eyes, was the Night King. He sat on a dead horse, the look in his eyes sent a crawling chill up Danys’ spine. Jorah‘s mufflers voice called to her, but all she heard was her own breath as she held the Night King’s gaze.

Drogon passed over the host of white walkers, gliding back over Winterfell. In the distance she could her the screeching of another dragon. 

Viserion, she thought. Or was it Rhaegal? She’d not seen either for so long.

Drogon perched upon a tall tower. 

“You’re Grace!” Jorah shook her out of her thoughts, “We must get far away from here!”

“Not yet!” Daenerys shouted, she narrowed her eyes at the keeps that below, “Dracarys!!” 

Drogon burned into the nearest battlements, his fire charred the nearby towers to rubble in moments, “Dracarys!” 

Men screamed in the courtyard and cried as they fell from the battlements engulfed in flames. 

Some ran desperately past the castle walls wreathed in fire, right into the crowd of the dead. Her heart froze over as they were torn limb from limb, she steeped herself against the flames. 

“Dracarys! Dracarys!!” The words restored every bit of strength that she’d lost all those weeks in the dungeons. 

She rubbed Drogons’ scales and his wings beat at a steady pace taking to the sky.

He flew over the vast trees in the godswood, and Daenerys sang once more, “Dracarys!”

Loyal Drogon rained down fire from above. The great red tree burst into flames, larger than the others. The smoke was a different color than the others, it seemed thicker.

Dany heard the dragon screeching in the distance, it was closer now. 

She flew Drogon South, looking down one last time as they flew over the horde. The Night King slowly followed his army through the gates of Winterfell. With a lift of his arms, all those who could, rose again. 

They made their choice, she told herself, looking away from the chaos. The fires were already being tamed by the Night King. The dead had already begun forming a strange pattern around the dying flames of the tree, they used torn off body and horse parts. 

She looked down once more at the rising smoke at the piles of stone and snow. Winterfell still stood, Daenerys bitterly took notice, some towers twisted under Drogons’ fire but she had hoped to do more damage. It faded away behind the thick snow and clouds in the darkness of the night. 

Drogons’ wings flashed through the sky. She heard Viserion cry after her. Only it wasn’t Viserion, her child was long dead. In that moment she silently swore to herself that she would return.

________________________________________________________________________________

**Arya**

She reined her horse to a halt and gracefully leapt to the ground beside Gendry. 

Arya had kept her distance from him since they’d left Moat Cailin. Gendry was never too far away, they would nod when they met the other’s gaze. 

Arya walked beside him, petting her tall horse while it galloped along.

“I hope we get there soon.” His eyes fixed on the road.

“Me too.” She said through a small smirk, “The Red Woman is going to be there.” 

“I plan to stay far away from her.” He said, “Did you know she was exiled from the north? I think I want to stay there after all this.” He quickly cast his gaze all around them.

Arya raised a brow, “You’re staying?” She asked, biting back her excitement at the thought of Gendry working in the forges of Winterfell.

“Yes, I’ve gotten much better at working with dragonglass, I thought I might join the Nights Watch. They could use the help after what’s happened there.” Gendry said as he fiddled with his cloak.

Arya couldn’t think of anything to say, her fists were clenched at her sides. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“I spent some time there, it seemed alright.” He continued, “I’d like to stand at the top of the Wall when I was there they kept me wrapped in blankets near the fire. I suppose I was pretty hurt and exhausted.” He laughed.

“You can’t.” Arya said, more sharply than she’d intended.

Gendry’s smile quickly faded.

She shook her head, “Its been knocked down.” She forced her eyes off his puzzled face and back to the road ahead.

“Well they can’t have knocked it all down could they?” He paused, “Do you think they’ll rebuild?“

“I don’t know!” She shouted, “Why don’t you ask Jon? He was Lord Commander until- he left.” Her voice was shrill in her ears, she knew Jon didn’t share what happened to him at Castle Black with many people. Still she wished she could tell him, that’d change his mind about it.

Gendry nodded his big dumb head at her, “Well then if you’ll excuse me, M’lady” he pulled his horse along and climbed on.

Arya glowered after him.

________________________________________________________________________________

**Jon**

He rode behind Greyworm and Missandei who spoke quietly to eachother. He fell back, lost in thought about his encounters with the Night King. He thought of each loss, wondering how they could ever win. 

Before long he found himself riding beside Tormund, Tyrion and Jaime. They were talking about Podrick, he rode along flustered and panicked. His face was bright red, still he forced a wry smile. Jon knew after listening for only a moment, that this conversation was a filthy one. 

“Tell him Pod! You must tell him it’s true!” Tyrion urged him.

Just then, Gendry slowed his horse to join their small group. 

Tormund shook his head wildly, the way he did when he had too much goat milk, “I don’t believe it. All three of the whores? You want me to believe three whores, wouldn’t accept your gold?? Because-“ he jabbed a finger at Pod “He, was that good?” 

Jaime looked him in the eyes, “I didn’t believe myself until Bronn, a friend of mine... told me it was true.” 

“No!” Tormund’s eyebrows met above his nose as his gaze bore into Podrick, “I don’t believe this one has ever laid with a woman. How could he know the secrets to love making?”

Gendry laughed under his breath, Tormund quickly turned to him, “Well now don’t laugh at him. It takes skill to truly please a woman. Imagine three? What do you know of making love?” 

Gendry’s smile fell into a strained frown, “Oh- I...” he stammered.

Jon took a breath to speak, but Podrick had already begun to explain.

“That was my first time.” Podrick said, his face reddened three shades brighter.

“Now I know that’s horse shit!” Tormund shook his head, dismissing Jaime and Tyrion’s laughter, “Do you believe this, Snow?” 

Jon hadn’t given it much thought. He nodded his head, “Aye. I believe it.”

“You southern folk! I don’t get it, how can you believe this, and not my bear story?!” Tormund crossed his arms stubbornly.

“That’s because Podrick really does have a magic cock.” Tyrion grabbed a bottle off a pouch in his saddle and took a deep drink.

A moment of silence befell them, when Tormund shook with a booming howls of laughter. Soon they all laughed, even Jon doubled over.

“Tell them how you did it Pod.” Tyrion insisted, “Share with us the secret of love making.” 

Podrick took a deep breath, “Very well.” He tugged at his collar to loosen his cloak, “I always thought that as men, we take from women. We are told that-“ he struggled for words, “It is for men. We don’t take the time to-listen.”

“Listen?” Tyrion asked.

“To their bodies. What they like and how they like it. We don’t take the time to make certain that they are enjoying it just as much as we are. It’s important, it can bring you even closer.” 

“I agree.” Tormund said, “If we climb on and stick them, they don’t seem to enjoy it much.” 

“That does work for some.“ Tyrion laughed. 

“Oh aye! Fucking can be done with anyone-it is instinctual.” Tormund spoke softly, smirking wickedly all the while.

Gendry reined his horse to a halt beside Jon, “M’lord, I was hoping you’d have a moment to talk?”

“Yes of course.”

“You were Lord Commander of the Nights Watch. Do you think I could find honor there?” Gendry asked him.

Jon sighed, “There is honor in taking the black. Though I must warn you, it isn’t like the stories you hear.”

“When we were there after the hunt beyond the wall, it seemed like a place I could get used to.” Gendry told him.

“Have you spoken to Ser Davos about this?” Jon asked.

“I have. He told me it was a bad idea, he wouldn’t tell me why, only that I shouldn’t go.” 

“He cares for you.” Davos mustn’t have told him about the mutiny. With Ed as Lord Commander, the Nights Watch might be a different place. So many had fallen when the Wall was attacked, there were so few of them now, “If you truly want it, I believe you could do rise in the ranks.”

“I knew you’d understand. Now that King’s Landing is destroyed- I can’t even go back there.” He trailed off, they walked along silently, “I never got the chance to say, I’m sorry.” 

Jon looked up at him, “Sorry? You’ve done nothing-“

“My father. I’m sorry my father killed your father.” Gendry met his gaze, his eyes were glossed over as if he might cry.

“I didn’t know him. Same way you didn’t know your father.” Jon said without thinking, “Lord Eddard Stark treated me like his own son, even when it cost him his honor. He was a good man. He loved Robert Baratheon, I saw it. I don’t know enough about Rhaegar Targaryen to know what kind of man he was.” Jon paused, “You helped Arya, Bran, and Sam when I couldn’t. For that, I see no reason to be sorry.”

________________________________________________________________________________

**Arya**

She hung her head, trying her best to keep from crying as she sat up straight on her saddle with a deep breath.

“M’lady, have you seen Gendry?” Ser Davos’ voice asked from behind her.

“He rode ahead to find Jon not too long ago.” She told him.

“Ah. Thank you.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, “I’ll find him later.” 

Arya watched him fall back into the host, she grasped the reins in her hands and urged her horse on.

She slowed, when she spotted Jon and Gendry. Matching their pace as she peeked her head around Jon, “Davos is looking for you.” She told Gendry, he winced in surprise before excusing himself through a half smile and rode off.

________________________________________________________________________________

**Jon**

“Are you alright?” Jon asked eyeing Arya’s furrowed brows.

“Why?” She asked sharply.

“It seems like somethings got you upset.” He told her gently.

“I just-“ she searched for words, “You think you know a person, until they do something that makes you wonder if you ever knew them at all... Has that ever happened to you? You think you know someone entirely- and they go-and show you that you don’t?” 

Jon laughed, “People can’t always be what you want them to be. You can’t have expectations of a person, and then get upset when they don’t live up to them. People are always changing.” 

Jon thought of his own experience, the day he was resurrected, as he went on, “But even after all of it, people can still surprise you.” 

He paused, thinking of that day at Castle Black, when she came to him after all those years, “They might not be what you expected...” 

He could feel the warmth of the hearth as if he were there again, when they sat and reminisced about their home. Jon continued, “And If you let them, they’ll change you in ways that make you stronger than you could ever have imagined.” 

“What if they run away, every time you get too close?” Arya asked.

Jon wondered who it might be she was talking about, “Sounds like they might be afraid.” 

“How can I help with a thing like that?” She wrinkled her little chin.

“When I was afraid, I needed a reason to get back up again. I wanted to run. I would have- if someone from my past hadn’t found me first. I was sure I knew who they were.” He shook his head, “It surprised me to find just how wrong I was. I am grateful that it happened, because I found a whole new reason to fight.” He spoke true, taking special care not to blurt out her name.

“This person changed your mind- got you to stay?” Arya mused.

“Aye.” He said, looking at his hands wrapped in the reins of his horse, “No one wants to be alone. If you care about this person, let them know.”

Arya turned with a warm smile on her lips, “Thank you, Jon.”

They rode together for a time, ruminating on their thoughts as they traveled closer to Storm’s End.

________________________________________________________________________________

**Cersei**

Cersei Lannister stood impatiently in the rookery with Qyburn as he rummaged through the parchment she’d just signed.

“Have any of the ravens returned?” She asked her loyal hand.

“I regret to inform to her Grace that there was no response from any of the houses you’ve reached out to.” 

Cersei nodded, it didn’t matter. There was only the north to worry about now that King’s Landing was destroyed. She knew the people would never rally behind Daenerys Targaryen. Not when she was the one who turned King’s Landing into a pile of ashes, just as Cersei knew she would. 

“The ravens are slower in the Winter. Have you made any progress on how we might bring the iron throne here? If it even still stands.” She asked him.

Cersei summoned every smith who might have known how to help. None of them could. She’d intended to bring it straight to the Rock with her, reluctantly leaving it behind when it became clear there would be no other way. 

She was glad to be home, that empty headed dragon bitch would never think to find her here. Cersei thought, smiling to herself. She had to pull her armies from the Rock, abandoning it herself. A hollow victory, for the false queen. 

Qyburn clutched the books he held in his hands, not far behind as he walked with her down the hallway, “It stands, Your Grace. Only a fire that matches the intensity of that which forged the throne, can cause it any harm. Even if all three of Daenerys Targaryen’s dragons would be no match to the intensity of Balerion the Dread. It is written that his fire was another color entirely.”

Cersei looked over her shoulder at him, “Good. That’ll be all Qyburn.” 

He bowed, turning around to return to the rookery. Gregor Clegane’s armor clinked as he followed behind her to the lord’s chambers. She stepped in, closing the door just as the Mountain turned around assuming his post. 

Cersei poured wine into her goblet, nearly filling it to the brim. She took a sip, drinking it down with a sigh as she enjoyed the peaceful silence. 

It was all too fleeting, when interrupted by muffled voices on the other side of her door. Cersei listened to the rushed voice, it was a guard. She walked to her door and placed her hand on the knob just as he knocked. 

“Your Grace,” he bowed before her, “Euron Greyjoy has returned. He has docked, and is making his way here now.” 

Cersei raised her brow, “Excellent, send him here when he arrives.” She moved to close the door, when he blocked the doorway with his boot.

The guard stammered, “It seems he’s made quite a show of his arrival, his crew is cheering and marching before him-“ 

Cersei smiled, “Has he brought me another one of my enemies?” 

She felt her heart flutter wildly in excitement, who it might be? Perhaps Ned Stark’s bastard banished Daenerys from the north when he’d heard what she did to the capital. Could it be the fool himself? Or might it be the little dove? Perhaps it was Jaime. She had ordered the small group she’d sent to Winterfell to bring him back to her, should they come across him. She wondered who it might be, giddy at the thought.

“I’ll greet him in the great hall. Tell the kitchen to prepare food and drink for them.” She ordered.

“Yes, your Grace.” He turned on his heels and walked hurriedly down the hall. 

The Mountain stood at her side, quietly looking ahead.

“Bring the Queens Guard down to the great hall to receive our guests.” She said, gliding past him.

She made her way to the great hall, which was already being set up with a dais and a velvet chair. She sighed in her cup as she took a deep drink, imagining the iron throne in the place of the one atop the dais.

She ascended the steps and sat down, containing the gleeful expression that lingered in her face. 

After two goblets of wine, Cersei heard the marching and cheers of the Ironborn growing louder in the distance, “More wine.” She said, holding out her golden goblet. 

She nodded to a pair of her guards, signaling them to open the doors to the great hall. Cersei imagined Daenerys Targaryen’s sad violet eyes looking up at her in shame, her hands shackled together in before her. She wondered if Euron had managed to kill the dragons. Would he bring along their heads? 

She already knew where she’d display the skulls, she’d line them up in the golden gallery, along with the gold and treasures she brought along with her from King’s Landing. 

Her queens guard lined into place beside the dais just before the first of Euron’s men began to march into the great hall. Qyburn bowed down to her and sauntered to her side.

The Ironborn each took their turn bowing to her and gathered on both sides of the hall where they watched the small parade come to an end.

Cersei hadn’t even spared Euron a glance, for her eyes were on his prisoner. He lugged Sansa Stark close behind him. Cersei had hoped it was the Targaryen girl. With her out of the way, Maggie the Frog’s prophecy would never come to pass. 

Still, Cersei was glad to finally have Eddard Stark’s precious daughter once again. There was so much she needed to know.

She was still a beautiful thing, her red hair gathered into a messy braid hanging off her left shoulder. Her grey dress was filthy and tattered. Her youthful face was tinged with dirt save for the streaks of tears which had cleared their way halfway down her cheeks. She hung her head, lifting her blue eyes at her from under her brows. 

“My Queen.” Euron bowed deeply to Cersei, when he rose back up he’d noticed Sansa had not bowed. He yanked at the chains attached to her shackles, she quickly curtsied. 

“My lord, you’ve returned.” Cersei said keeping her voice even.

“I have and I’ve brought a gift for her Grace.” He jangled the chains in his hand, “I bring to you, the Lady of Winterfell, Sansa Stark.”

Cersei lifted her head in pride, not bothering to conceal the smirk she felt growing across her face, “As always lord Euron, excellent work. You’ve managed to do in a few months, what some of my best spies and knights could not accomplish for years.” 

A menacing grin played on his lips, “It is my pleasure your Grace. I am the kind of man who stops at nothing until my means are reached.” 

“Where did you find her?” She asked, taking another sip of wine.

“She was captured by your men. The Golden Company attacked Winterfell as you commanded. They took the castle with ease.” Euron said.  
Sansa’s head snapped in his direction as something flickered across her face. 

Euron continued, “They brought her to me as instructed.” He paced to Sansa’s side to detach the chains from her shackles, leaving her hands bound together over her belly.

Cersei couldn’t recall seeing any of the men she’d sent in the hall, “And what of my men? I ordered them to return here with the girl.”

Euron wrapped the loose chain into itself, clutching it in his dirty hands, “I regret to be the one to tell you, they fell to those ice creatures. I myself lost countless men. Not a single one of them had a weapon capable of killing them. They were unstoppable, they vastly outnumbered us, we narrowly escaped with our lives.”

“All of them were killed?” Cersei asked incredulously.

“Yes my Queen.” He answered solemnly, his eyes fell to the ground.

She glanced at her guards, “Take her away.” She ordered, the words rolled off her tongue like the deep purr of a lion.

As Cersei watched her guards take the Stark girl, thinking back to the days when she was still married to Robert. Young Sansa was betrothed to Joffrey- 

Cersei drew in a sharp breath to calm the ache in her heart for her first born son. No matter how many years had passed, she still missed him so, as she did all her children. 

She turned her gaze to Euron, “You’ve done well. I thank you, and invite you to sup in my solar. There is much to discuss.”

“Thank you, your Grace. If I might visit the rookery first, I want to send word that I’ve arrived here to my men in Storm’s End.” Euron said to her pausing for a moment, “Are you going to kill the girl?”

Cersei smirked, “If you would have asked me that a few moths ago, I’d have said yes. I know if my father were here, he’d tell me that a Stark is worth more alive than dead. To answer your question, I’m not going to kill her, not any time soon. She’s staying in my chambers from when I was a girl.” 

Euron shrugged, “So she’s to be your little pet then.” He laughed, “You are cunning as you are beautiful, Your Grace.”

Cersei nodded in agreement, “Qyburn, assist Euron in the rookery.” 

“Yes your Grace.” He bowed at her side and led Euron away. 

Cersei felt the pain in her heart return as she sat up high atop her chair. She held her head high fighting back the stinging tears. She quickly reached for her wine, drinking deeply. 

Looking down at the sweet red liquid, she could see her own reflection. Her crown glistened and Cersei looked hard at herself. 

I’ve lost everything for the throne, she thought, rubbing her flat belly. Even Jaime left, her little mistruth about being with child wasn’t even enough to make him stay. 

Cersei stood up shaking the thought away, Jaime Lannister would pay for his betrayal. As would that miserable little beast Tyrion. She’d let them live so they could complete their purpose, it’s what Lord Tywin Lannister would have done. Tyrion had already proven his importance by giving her insight to Daenerys’ battle plans. They will all pay their debts, she told herself as she descended the steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real Cersei x Sansa reunion is going down next chapter, and I promise it’s gonna be sooo juicy!!!!


	25. Sacred Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long night rages on.

 

 

**Arya**

She leapt off her saddle and unsheathed her dagger. Arya strolled her way over to help stop the dead slowly inching their way to the road. She took a closer look, watching as they gnashed their teeth together, if they were lucky enough to still have jaws. They moved quickly, their pale bone and skin appeared even whiter under the moon glow. 

The first one reached out to her shoulder, trying to grab hold of her. She dodged it and plunged her dagger into the back of its neck. 

She took notice of their clothes, they couldn’t have turned too long ago. Older wights had tattered clothes clinging to their thin corpses, and mottled features. These were stronger, freshly dead. 

Arya sliced her way through with the help of a few of their companions, they were dealt with quickly. 

She pulled her dagger out of a dead Lannister soldier, half his face had been torn off. She noticed the slimey goo that his innards left on the blade, with a grunt she knelt down to wipe it off on the soldiers’ pants. Arya remembered the Lannister men she’d met on the road. It made her glad to see she did not recognize the face of this man. 

Turning to fetch her horse, she moved to put the blade back in its scabbard, stopping short at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Is that dagger all you have against them?” Gendry asked, standing behind her, holding his hammer as if it were weightless.

She looked down at the blade and with a swift flip, it lay across her palm, “My brother gave it to me. Valyrian steel. I’ve got Needle too.” She eyed the hilt.

“Needle isn’t going to kill them, you know...” Gendry gestured at the pile of wights being dragged and stacked for burning. 

She rolled her eyes, of course she knew. Arya only nodded her head. 

“You should’ve asked me to add some dragonglass to the edges before we left Winterfell.” He told her.

”I wouldn’t want to to order you around.” She swiped her blade back into its scabbard at her waist, “That’s done, I’ll see you around.” Arya met his gaze, ignoring the hurt look in his eyes.

He half smiled, “You’re mad at me?” He stated, more than he asked.

Arya drew a slow, shaky breath, “I-” she grunted, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He nodded toward the road, “I’ll walk you.” 

They trudged along through the snow to their horses. Silence rang in her ears, he’s right, she thought to herself. She remembered Jons advice, telling Gendry that she cared for him wouldn’t make any difference. He was going to leave anyway.

“That’s strange.” Arya squinted ahead against the darkness. It seemed the host was turning off the road and into the woods.”

Gendry looked around, “We must be close.”

“I’m going to find out what’s going on.” Arya told him, before riding as fast as she could into the woods.

She halted to a stop when she reached the head of the host and found Jon. Without a word she climbed off her saddle and listened.

“I think it best to send two men to the castle.” Jon said, “They can’t be recognized by the Iron born and they must be able to handle themselves in a fight.”

Gendry must have followed her, as he had just joined them a few moments later.

Ayra stepped forward, “I will go.” She said, looking straight at Jon.

“Arya-“ Jon started, already shaking his head in objection.

“I can handle myself in a fight and I’ll make certain I am not recognized.” She looked around, “I’ll be quick about it.”

Jon sat silently for a bit, and with a defeated sigh he nodded his head, “Very well, only I can’t allow you to go alone. I’d be the one to do it if Euron hadn’t seen me in King’s Landing.” 

“I’ll go!” Gendry said with a confident smile.

Arya winced, she hadn’t told him about the faces, she said she’d learned to masterfully disguise herself in her time with a theater company in Essos. She narrowed her eyes, “I can do it by myself.” 

Jaime Lannister sighed in frustration, “I think we ought to send someone Brienne will recognize on sight. If you’re in disguise, she might not know it’s you- should anything go wrong in there. If you go as you are, the Iron born might recognize your very northern look. Might I suggest that I accompany you?”

Tyrion Lannister laughed, “Jaime they’ll recognize your big face the moment you walk up the road. If they don’t, your hand will surely do it. Podrick should go. He and Brienne travelled together for a long time. She would know immediately that we need her.”

Podrick tilted his head, “I don’t think Euron has gotten a good look of me.” His eyes hardened, “I’ll do it.”

They drew up a plan with the help of Ser Davos, who knew the castle well. Missandei helped Gilly start up a fire. Arya listened closely, doing her best to ignore Gendry glaring at her from the other side of the growing fire. After switching to a fading and worn cloak, she climbed on her saddle. 

She grasped the reins in her hands, when she’d noticed Gendry stomping his way to her through the snow. He puffed streams of fog out of his nose like a true bull, “Why’d you do that?!” He asked.

“It wasn’t my decision.” Arya turned her horse around to face him with a tug of the reins.

“...You don’t think I could do it.” His jaw danced beside his cheeks where he clenched his jaw.

She peered down at him disdainfully, “You’re being stupid.”

Gendry opened his mouth, but nothing came out, only the thick fog of his breath.

Arya turned to leave, “I have to go.” She told him over her shoulder and rode off

She felt rotten, but she rode on all the same.

Quickly, she looked down at the face she’d pulled out if her bag. It was that of an old man. She donned it, feeling herself shift into the frail weak man. 

Her feet could no longer touch the stirrups of the saddle. 

When Pod got a look at her, his face puckered in shock, “Lady Arya?? Is that you?” 

“Don’t call me that, remember I’m your Papa.” She told him in a weak raspy voice.

He snapped his mouth shut and shook himself into focus, “Of course.” 

They rode up to the gates, two guards shouted at them to state their names.

Arya shouted to the guard standing watch at the gate, “Please good Ser, our ship was wrecked on the bay. Might we stay the night?” her voice was like the squawking of a sick bird, “We wont be any-“ She doubled down to her knees in a fit of coughs, clutching her cloak to her mouth, “We won’t be any trouble- I swear it.”

The guard at the gate turned to talk to another guard. After allowing them some time to discuss, Podrick called out to them, “My Papa is sick- Please, I only want to get him out of the cold for the night!”

The guards continued to whisper amongst themselves. Finally one of them walked down the steps and through the gate. 

Podrick led Arya there as she limped along, slowly. She took notice that the guard was an older man, thick in the waist. He wore a long black coat with golden buckles. He slid his tongue across the few gold teeth he had and wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, “We can’t just let you stay. Have you anything of value?” 

“Only our horses.” Podrick despairingly mumbled

The guard eyed their horses, his glance lingered on Needle in its scabbard hanging off the saddle. 

“You won’t be needing your weapons. We can come to an agreement later.” He said absently, his gaze never leaving her sword.

“Go on then!” The guard signaled and the massive gates opened. The other guard led the horses away, returning with Podrick and Arya’s swords. 

Arya limped up the stairs beside Pod, using his shoulder for support. Once they were inside she could smell the stale stink of spilled ale and smoke. 

Arya faked a wheezing cough, attracting the stares of three heavily bearded men sitting on fancy chairs having what smelled like terrible ale.

“What’s this?!” One of them boomed.

The guard set the swords down by the door with a clink, “This old man and his son shipwrecked on the bay.” 

“And what’ve they got? It better be good or they’re back out on their asses!” Another shouted.

“I like the little sword.” The guard motioned to Needle, leaning against the wall, “I thought it might buy them a stay in the holes.” 

Podrick was a sweaty mess beside her, he looked all around at the surrounding men, “Wh- What do you mean holes?” He stammered.

The golden toothed guard laughed as he leaned down to whisper, “Why, the Murder Holes boy.” 

All at once, Arya turned to reach for her sword, Podrick lunged foreword to run into a corridor. 

Arya watched as Podrick was punched in the face, he covered his face in fear. They picked him up and tied his hands together.

Arya felt the guard knock the air out of her with a forceful kick in the belly. 

She threw herself back and in moments, her hands were bound. 

When they picked her up, she coughed wildly.

“Pummeling on old men now are we?” A rich voice sneered from the edge of the foyer.

Arya turned to find Brienne standing tall with her arms crossed in disapproval. Her mouth was set in a deep frown, she wore the same full armor she always wore along with the red and gold sword belt that held her sword Oathkeeper. Arya noticed her hair had grown a few inches longer, she felt a rush of relief to see that no harm had come to Brienne. 

“When wi-“ Brienne started until she met Podricks panicked gaze. She shook her head and continued, “Where are you taking them?” 

“Holes.” The guard growled.

“I’ll take them.” She said, already making her way to Arya’s side.

“The beast is finally warming to us!” A red faced man taunted.

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him as she grabbed Arya by the arm sharply. She clapped her hand on Podrick’s shoulder, eyeing the guard following close behind as they made their way to a stone staircase. She pulled a ring of keys from her waist and unlocked the wooden doors before them. 

She climbed up to where Podrick stood and spoke to the guard holding him, “I can handle it from here.” 

The man hesitated, but with a reassuring look from Brienne, he turned on his heels and ascended along with the echo of his steps.

Brienne turned, “I didn’t think you’d make it in time, it seems Euron has summoned his men. Must of them leave tomorrow.” She told Podrick.

He nodded, “Were here now, Lady Arya and I are going to get you out of here. First we must signal for the attack.” 

Brienne looked at Arya incredulously, ”Lady Arya?” She asked.

“Not at the moment, but yes it’s me.” Arya said in her quivering raspy voice, “Do you know where the Red Priests are?” 

“Right this way.” Brienne opened the door and led them through even more stairs. 

When they reached the end, there was no light. Not a single window, only the murky smells and echoed sound of dripping water nearby.

“I hope you’re well rested. You’ll be needing every bit of energy you can muster.” Brienne shouted.

Arya hobbled her way to the cell at the very end of the dungeons. She turned to find Melisandre’s bony face staring directly at her through the black bars of the cell she was locked in. Arya did not flinch or blink, she simply returned the treacherous gaze. 

“They’ve come for us,” Brienne explained as she cut Pod and Arya’s bound hands free, “Sansa must have sent word-“ 

“Not exactly.” Podrick told her, “It was-“ 

Arya threw him a shrewd look, stopping Pod mid sentence. She didn’t trust Melisandre, the less she knew of Brans abilities and Arya’s for that matter- the better, “That is not important, we need to give the signal.” 

“You know this man?” Melisandre asked, finally shifting her gaze off of Arya.

“This is Lady Arya-“ Brienne started.

“I’m in disguise.” She hissed at the Red Priestess.

Melisandre smiled, “Disguise, of course... How long has it been little one?”

“Not long enough.” Arya said under her breath pulling another torch off the wall, “Jon wants us to set fire to the drapes on the front window of the second floor. This will create a diversion, where we can sneak to the gates and help them take the castle.”

Arya held her dim flame to the one on Brienne’s torch, it roared to life. 

Melisandre turned to the others in the cell with her, “We mustn’t forget the lava rocks!” 

Brienne pointed to a corner where a stack of five black molten rocks leaned against the wall, “Each of you, grab as many rocks as you can carry and stay out of the way.” 

She unlocked the door to the cell, there was one man dressed in the same grimy red robes that the others wore. He helped a dark haired woman to her feet, and two more women stumbled out of the cell. In the light of the fire, Arya could see that all of them had red eyes.

“I’ll go give the signal then, you all wait for me to return. We’ll fight our way out together, defeat the guards, and let our men right through the front gate.” Arya explained as she wobbled down the stony dark hall.

They climbed the steps, Arya peeked out a slit in the door, “You should hide, I’ll come back when it’s done.” She closed her eyes and listened hard. Not a sound on the other side.

She slid out the door and up the small stair case. The hallway was clear, though she could hear the sounds of muffled laughter in the distance.

Arya prowled her way up the empty stairwell to the second floor of the castle. She held out the torch, watching the flames lick the drapes. Just then, she heard the creaking of the steps of the stairs, her head snapped in the direction. The flames caught in a flash of fire, thick smoke quickly filled the hallway. 

“Stop right where you are!!” A guard shouted once he’d reached the top of the stairs.

Arya pulled off the face she wore, and met the man with a chilling smile. To her great surprise, it was the man who’d kicked her. He wore Needle on his belt.

She pulled out the dagger she’d hidden under her cloak and tossed it into his heart. 

He managed an echoing scream as he tumbled down the stairwell. Arya darted down the hallway and down the stairs to retrieve her dagger.

He clutched at his heart, Arya pictured the pain of his heart beating against the cold steel. She smiled sweetly, “I’ll be taking that back now.” She pulled Needle free from his waist, “And this.” She pulled out the dagger, watching the fresh warm blood spurt from the cut.

She turned on her heels and ran down the rest of the steps in a flurry. 

She passed a few Iron born who were too drunk and deep in conversation to notice her slip by.

Soon the fire had gained the attention of everyone in the castle. They shouted and rushed to put it out.

Arya ran back to the dungeons, “Let’s go!” She shouted, and they sprang into the hallway, running to a small alcove out of sight. They hid there while Arya snuck ahead. She spotted the men who had been drinking on the fancy chairs when she was brought in. They talked among themselves, running towards the commotion when it grew even louder. After they’d gone, Arya ran to the door, swinging it open.

There was no one in sight, until she stepped out through the door. Suddenly Jon climbed down from a nearby wagon, a small group of armored men close behind. 

“There’s not many, they’re planning to leave soon.” Arya told him, without a moment to lose.

“Where to?” Jon asked.

“Casterly Rock, on Euron Greyjoy’s orders.” 

Jon unsheathed his sword, “That is not going to happen.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

**Bran**

“We’ve arrived.” Meera said just above a whisper, “The lake is frozen solid.”

Bran had slept most of the way there from the Crossroads Inn. He hated how much of the trip he’d missed, but when he woke it was as though he were waking for the first time.

“Why didn’t anyone think to wake me?” Bran asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You needed rest.” Meera muttered, looking down at the edge of the lake where she crouched over.

Bran sat up in the wagon, Lady Stoneheart halted her horse to a stop beside him, Beric followed. The Brotherhood fell back further behind, they were not many. Maester Wolkan, who rode on the horse drawing the wagon where Bran lay, dismounted and walked to stretch his legs at Meera’s side, “One of Lady Stoneheart’s men said it would be in this direction.” He leaned against the foggy bank, trying to see beyond, “The God’s Eye. We ought to make our way around.”

“No.” Meera shrugged off her weapons and removed her gloves.

Bran opened his mouth to tell them that he was going to see using the owl hooting from the tree they’d just passed. He pressed his lips shut when he noticed Meera was holding her hands over the muddy edge of where the water once kissed the land, before it turned to solid ice.

Wolkan stared intently at Meera’s hands, wordlessly inching closer. Bran pulled himself to the edge of the wagon. Wolkan took notice and rushed to Bran’s side, “My Lord, do you remember how long we searched for Greywater Watch?” He asked, sorting through the wagon for the wheeled chair.

Bran half turned as he nodded to him, trying his best to look through the thick fog hanging over the huge lake. He was able to make out a figure taking shape in the distance.

“It would seem the lands here move in the same way they did in the Neck.” Wolkan said, rolling the chair over to Bran as he continued, “Only the Crannogman could navigate in it. It’s why they’ve never fallen to invasions. Armies have drowned trying to get through the water, never making it to the castle.”

Meera stood as she looked up at the emerging figures, “My father was upset that I’d returned home. I didn’t want to learn, but he insisted that I learn all that I could. Crannogmen are descendants of the Children of the Forest. We have connections to earth and water, soil and stone, oaks and elms and willows, and ice.”

 

“You melted the ice? You never told me you could do that- All those years you never thought to tell me?” Bran asked, instantly hearing every crack in his voice as he heard himself.

“I didn’t know. I only learned after I returned home.” She turned placing her hands on the handles of his chair, “I’ve called the land to me, it’ll float here, then back to its rightful place in the middle of God’s Eye.”

“Right- I’m sorry..” Bran said sheepishly, “I didn’t mean-.”

His words caught in his throat when Meera pushed him closer to the edge of the lake, lowering her lips to his ear she whispered, “I’ve missed you. I’m glad you’re back.”

He shuddered as every hair on his body stood on its end.

“Thank you, we’d have been searching for weeks if not for you.” Bran managed, “I couldn’t do this without you.”

Meera sniffed, Bran turned back to see her wiping away at her eyes. Holding her gaze when she moved her hands away.

She looked back out at the lake, “I thought I’d lost you. If I had known what was happening to you, I would have never left your side.”

Men from the Brotherhood began to gather, murmuring among themselves about the incredibly giant, looming trees. They formed what looked like the silhouette of a weirwood tree, big as a mountain. Torches burned in the night growing brighter as they approached.

“I always thought the Isle of Faces was just a tale.” Wolkan looked on.

“That’s what they wanted you to think.” Meera laughed.

“They?” Beric asked, his hand finding the hilt of his sword.

“The Order of Green Men who live on this Isle.” Meera told him, “They protect the Isle of Faces with the old magic of the Children. My father said some may still be living there.”

Bran looked at the approaching isle, the light of the torches cast shadows upon the carved faces of the trees. They lined a trail, lit up along the way by tall burning torches sticking out of the ground. The edge of the isle fused with the edge of the land in which they stood.

“I’ve never been here- I don’t know what to expect.” Meera admitted, “I think it would be best if we were not to march up to the sacred order with a band of strange men.”

Beric cleared his throat, his eye cast downward at the snowy ground, “I’ll stay behind with the Brotherhood, we’ll be in this very spot when you return. You all go on.” He gave Lady Stoneheart a comforting smile.

She didn’t seem comforted by the gesture. She peered straight ahead, Bran could not place her expression.

“Thank you, Lord Beric.” Bran smiled, “I cant say how long we’ll be.”

Beric nodded, “Take all the time you need.”

Lady Stoneheart rushed to be at Bran’s side. She walked before him, her mistrustful eyes scanning the woods.

Soon they were deep in the woods, surrounded by the faces dripping red sap from their eyes.

Bran gasped when he lay his eyes upon the tallest, thickest weirwood tree he’d ever seen. It stood in the center of all the trees in the woods. Though it wasn’t the size of the tree that shocked him, it was the face that was carved into it, because staring back at him was his own face. His carved eyes dripped with so much thick sap, it had collected in his solemnly set mouth and dripped down from there too, pooling around the great roots there.

A large group of tall, muscular shadows emerged from the shadows. They rode on huge majestic elk, their antlers branched out like the trees surrounding them.

As they neared, Lady Stoneheart took a defensive stance, placing herself between them and Bran.

“Don’t worry mother,” Bran assured her in a hushed voice, “They mean us no harm.”

Lady Stoneheart lowered her raised arms, but she remained by his side.

“At last you have come.” The biggest of them said, his voice was deep and flat, “The roots, they call out you.”

“The roots?” Bran asked.

The Green man climbed off his elk in one graceful movement, stepping into the light. His skin was green and mottled like the Children of the Forest. His eyes gleamed a deep green. Long white horns curved out of his head, “You are The Three Eyed Raven.”

Bran looked at his own face carved in the tree, then back to the Green man, “I am, but who are you?”

“We are the Sacred Order, we have kept this Isle safe from those who would harm it. These woods have witnessed an ancient pact, the Night King wishes to destroy them. If the Three Eyed Raven’s tree is destroyed, the Pact will no longer be honored, giving him unlimited magical power. If this happens, he will use it to destroy everything. Nothing and no one will be able to stop him then. We are at the command of the Three Eyed Raven, but first you must see.”

Bran nodded, Meera pushed him before the great tree, she helped him find a place to sit at the roots. With one more look to the Green Man, Bran placed his hand on the white trunk just under his carved face.

 

 

_The blade was Valyrian steel, spell-forged and dark as smoke. Bran heard the words ring in his head._

_He was in these very woods, the Isle of Faces, only this had happened many years before. He watched a man dressed in chain mail and fur speaking to a Green man. They were surrounded by Northmen and Children of the Forest._

_”In honor of the Pact of Ice and Fire, we bestow this sword to House Stark. May it serve you and your descendants after you to ensure that every winter comes to an end.” The Green man held out the sword, it was Ice. House Stark’s ancestral sword._

_Bran looked upon the face of the man, his beard was long and unkept. His hair was dark, Bran thought he looked like his lord father Eddard. The man hesitated, looking up to the darkened sky he sighed deeply._

_The moment his hand touched the sword, Brans vision shifted._

_He saw two blades being melted down, the fire that melted them was a blinding bright light. Oathkeeper, Widows Wail- the names came to him like a whisper in the wind. Bran shut his eyes when the light of the forge grew even brighter._

_When he opened his eyes again, he found himself looking out through the eyes of a weirdwood tree. It was a still, clear day, when suddenly a knight dressed in full mismatched armor rushed through the bushes and stopped short before the tree, looking up into the carved face. Huffing short muffled breaths inside the iron helm, the knight leaned against the tree._

_After a moment, the knight stood back up and tossed a shield blazoned with a smiling weirwood tree far into the woods._

_’You there!’ A voice called out in the distance, the knight sharply turned._

_’In the name of King Aerys II of his name of House Targaryen, I command you to stop!!.’ Prince Rhaegar yelled as he jumped off his horse._

_The knight looked directly at him. Rhaegar continued as he approached, ‘I am the prince and you have offended my father. Remove your helm and come with me at once!’_

_The mysterious knight drew his sword, unwilling to submit. Rhaegar unsheathed his own sword and soon the two fought fiercely. The knight easily parried every one of the silver haired prince’s advances. The knight inched Rhaegar closer and closer to the tree where Bran watched, their swords clanging and sparking each time they met._

_The knight knocked Rhaegar on his bottom, ‘Who- who are you?!’ He demanded, cowering away on the dusty ground into the weirwood tree._

_Just then, young Howland Reed jumped out of the same bushes the knight had jumped through, throwing himself before the Prince, ‘Don’t!’ He shouted, both arms lifted in the air._

_Rhaegar leaped to his feet and grabbed hold of Howland, ‘A friend of yours- hm?’ Rhaegar sneered, ‘Come willingly or he dies.’_

_With a swift lunge, the knight punched Rhaegar in the middle of his face. He let go of the little crannogman and tumbled back into the dirt._

_Howland pleaded at the knight’s side, ‘You can not kill him! Please- please don’t!’_

_Bran heard the knight sigh deeply in frustration before thrusting the blade at Rhaegar, narrowly missing his chest, plunging it deep into the ground between his arm and his torso. Rhaegar screamed out in fear, a shrill, embarrassing sound._

_The knight laughed, it rumbled throughout the armor. Placing both hands above the helm, the knight pulled it off and long brown hair poured out, framing his lady aunt Lyanna’s flushed face, ‘You scream like a baby goat.’ She tossed the helm to the prince with another sigh, ‘Get up then. Let’s get on with it.’_

_She quickly braided her hair as she made her way back to her horse. Rhaegar however sat in the same place where she had knocked him into the dirt. Wide eyed and mouth hanging open in disbelief._

_Howland was visibly relieved, ‘Thank you my lady- If we return the armor they might show mercy on us. Especially the weirwood sheild.’ He looked around, ‘Where is it?’ He asked._

_Lyanna pointed, ‘I threw it in that direction.’ Howland dashed off._

_She removed pieces of the armor, completely ignoring the Prince who had not yet uttered a word._

_Howland returned, ‘Got it! We must return now- I will tell them that I forced you to join the tournament-‘ He told Lyanna between breaths._

_’That won’t be necessary,’ Rhaegar stood up and glanced over to Howland, carefully eyeing him as if seeing him for the first time, ‘The lords want their armors back- and you’ll have to tell me what you’ve done with their horses.’ He turned and made his way back to his horse, Lyanna’s stolen helm in hand._

_Lyanna’s full brows knit together, ‘And what of the King?’_

_Prince Rhaegar smiled warmly and met her puzzled gaze, ‘I’ll handle my father.’ He said gently._

 

 

Bran pulled back, he opened his eyes to find his mother knelt down beside him. The bone that stuck out where her brows once were was wrinkled with worry. He smiled, remembering that she still didn’t know! How had he not told her yet...

Bran opened his mouth to tell his mother that her husband had always stayed true to her. He wished she could have known, and finally against all possibilities he could be the one to tell her.

“You’ll need to go beyond Asshai, to the land of shadows. You must venture to the very ends, where the volcano’s smoke casts its shadow. You’ll have to forge a new weapon since sword given to your family was lost.” The Green man told Bran.

Bran shook his head, “I know where it is, it’s not lost just broken. My sisters can fix it.”

At the mention of Arya and Sansa, Lady Stoneheart’s gloved hand flew to her lips.

“Mother, There’s something i have to tell you.” He pulled himself back up to his chair, giving Meera a knowing look. She pulled Wolkan to examine the faces on the trees. The Green man noticed the exchange and excused himself, leaving Bran alone with Lady Stoneheart.

“Mother, It’s Jon.” He watched her red eyes flash with recognition, “Jon Snow was never father’s bastard.”

She tilted her head in confusion, “You see, father went to Dorne to save his sister Lyanna. When he reached the top of the tower, he found Lynanna bloodied and dying. She wasn’t raped or murdered, She and Rhaegar Targaryen had a child together. She died giving birth and mother, that child is Jon Snow. Father promised Lyanna that he would protect him from Robert, from the realm. A promise he kept until his last day.”

She gasped an awful sound and slightly shook her head. She turned away from him, the tattered gloves she wore were missing fingertips, where her long jagged nails ripped off the flesh under her eyes, black blood spilling out in gushes like tears down her face.

“Father never forgot his vows to you Mother- he only upheld the one he made to his sister. He loved you.”

Lady Stoneheart turned back to face Bran, she grasped her neck shut, “You saw this?” She asked in an anguished rasp

Bran nodded, “I did. Father promised he’d protect Jon. I also saw how Lyanna and Rhaegar met, aunt Lyanna was the Knight of the Laughing Tree.”

Bran wondered if she remembered any of it, it must feel like another lifetime. He recalled telling her about Rickon, when the Inn grew quiet that night, he could hear her weeping on the other side of the wall in the room he’d slept in. She had fresh scratches on her face then too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

**Sansa**

Sansa woke from a long dreamless sleep, she looked around the room she was being held in.

Sansa stood up and got dressed. She saw a big doll house in the corner. The shelf was lined with books about history and songs. It was the reflection of something she saw in her looking glass, which made her breath catch in her throat.

She gently picked up the porcelain doll, it reminded her of the one her father had given her. A part of her even hoped it might be hers, but the hair color was wrong. This one had golden blonde curls that fell in long ringlets.

The lock clicked on the door and flew open, Sansa clutched at the doll to keep from dropping it. Kitchen maids glided around the tables with breads and fruits.

Cersei sauntered in, smirking when she met Sansa’s gaze.

Sansa looked down at the doll once more. She grazed her hand along side the cold fragile porcelain, reminding herself that she must be steel.

Each kitchen maid curtsied before their Queen as she passed, not that she’d notice. Her eyes were fixed on Sansa as she walked to a seat at the table, her smirk quickly faded when she looked down at the doll in Sansa’s hands.

For a moment Cersei stood in silence, her lip twitched in the slightest, “Myrcella’s doll.” she said so softly, Sansa could hardly hear.

The kitchen maids finished setting up the spread on the table, one stayed in the room and closed the door behind the others. She stood by the door, her hands folded before her.

Sansa curtsied, “Your Grace.” She lifted her head, “My father gave me a doll like this long ago, I remember him saying Princess Myrcellas’ doll maker made it.” Sansa said wistfully, before setting it back down on the bed.

Cersei drew a deep breath and pulled out a chair, “Sit.” She breathed curtly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

**Cersei**

“There is much to discuss. I thought it best we do it while we break fast.” Cersei said.

She felt an deep ache in her heart, it was the doll. Suddenly everything made her think of her sweet girl. The tea, oh how her Mrycella loved tea parties as a little girl, she slept in this very room for a time. She looked away from the tea to the book lined shelf which held Mrycella’s favorite songs. Cersei quickly pushed the thoughts away, thirsting for more than just tea.

Her empty headed kitchen maid stood so far behind Cersei had to turn herself all the way around, “What are you doing back there?” She said through her teeth.

The maid rushed to her side, face beading with sweat, “I-m sorry your Grace.” She nervously mumbled

“Wine.” Cersei quickly ordered before she had any time to begin speaking again.

Sansa sat across the table, she looked down at her hands in her lap.

“You look well.” Cersei looked her over.

“Thank you, your Grace.” She adverted her gaze.

The maid returned with the wine in hands, she poured two goblets, curtsied and lingered at Cersei’s side, “Leave us.” She said, waiting to hear the sound of her leaving before continuing on.

Cersei grabbed her wine and took a deep drink. Sansa sat there like a foolish child, staring at her hands.

“Drink.” Cersei told her, “It’s the best in the country. Winter isn’t the best time for wine, but Euron brought cases from Essos.”

She watched Sansa reach across the table and take a quick drink.

“I had hoped to see you at the parley in Kings Landing. I sent your invitation myself, I did meet your bastard brother, Jon. Is he the only family that remains to you?” Cersei asked, rubbing the ridges of her goblet with the tips of her fingers.

Sansa nodded, “That I know of, your Grace.”

“And those idiot Northerners crowned him king in your stead. I warned you long ago little dove, this is the world of men.” Cersei sliced the sweet bread, placed it on a small plate and pushed it across the table to Sansa as she continued, “For them to favor bastard blood over that of a true born child of Eddard Stark? So he could give everything you’ve fought for to the dragon queen?” Cersei mused, “You’re mother would weep if she were alive to hear it.”

Sansa looked right into her eyes in that moment, “Jon did what he thought was best.”

“Poor girl.” Cersei told her through a cruel smile, “You sit here paying for the things he’s done, defending his honor. While he roams freely, probably buried in his queen this very moment. He thinks himself so honorable, yet he continues to support Daenerys Targaryen. Even after she’s destroyed Kings Landing.”

“I wasn’t there, Your Grace. I didn’t see it happen. I only know that wildfire, is what ultimately destroyed the city.” Sansa Stark said, “If Jon continues to support her, there must be some reason.”

It would seem the Stark girl had not changed, still so naive about the passions of the heart, “The wildfire that destroyed the capital was planted there by Aerys Targaryen. No one after him dared tamper with the caches, the years only strengthened their potency.”

Sansa looked back up to meet Cersei’s gaze. She was even more beautiful than the time Cersei had seen her last. Beautiful, youthful and well mannered.

Cersei stood up and slowly inched to Sansa side, “I destroyed the Sept. It was filled with my enemies, so I destroyed them in one spectacular move. I can assure you that other than that, the wildfire that destroyed the capital was not planted there by me.” Cersei towered at her side, “Your foolish brother has fallen in love with his dragon queen, it’s obvious that she’s manipulating him. I do hope you remember what I told you about love.”

“It’s a poison.” Sansa said.

Cersei sat back down with a sigh, “She could have lied to him, I expected him to execute her- if it ever came to it.” Cersei reached for her goblet, taking another drink, “I told Tyrion about the caches, he must’ve told Daenerys at some point.”

Sansa’s eyes gleamed with welling tears. What could she possibly have to cry about, Cersei wondered. Could it be King’s Landing?

Cersei paced to Sansa’s other side, “I thought if anyone would be glad that city was returned to the dirt, it would’ve been you. I am...” Her voice faltered and Cersei quickly cleared it, “The pain of the past haunted me there, even more than this place does. Once I find a way to move my throne here, I will begin expanding on my castle, seeing as it’ll take years to rebuild the Red Keep.” She drank deeply, “Tell me of your marriage to Ramsey Bolton.”

“He was not the man I thought he was when I married him.” She said, looking down into her goblet before taking a sip, “I escaped from him and rallied the forces with my brother to take back our home. Ramsey fell on the battlefield.”

Cersei searched Sansa’s smooth features. Unfaltering, Sansa went on, “He was terrible, he was cruel, and I am glad to be free from him at last.”

The way Sansa spoke of Ramsey Bolton made Cersei think of Robert, “You chose to marry him then?”

“I felt it was my duty to my house, your Grace.” Sansa finished the last of her bread.

“Tell me, did Lord Baelish know?” Cersei watched Sansa closely.

“No your Grace, he only reached out to me after I had been married.” She said, “I trust him.”

Excellent, that was all Cersei truly questioned. It seemed Petyr Baelish had not been lying to her, “Has anyone come along after Ramsey? Any suitors?”

Sansa looked her right in the eyes, “No your Grace.”

They sat, quietly drinking in the hushed room.

“I was very sorry to hear about your children, your Grace.” Sansa’s unblinking eyes bore into Cersei, her kind voice made Cersei’s throat constrict. 

She drank it away, not letting it betray her voice, “Were you?” Cersei cocked her head aside.

“Yes.”

Cersei’s eyes narrowed in doubt, “Even Joffrey?”

Sansa remained silent.

“No, not him. I remember you were there. When he-“ she shook her head, “When my son was poisoned at his own wedding. It was you, wasn’t it?” Cersei hissed the words through a failed attempt at keeping her expressions collected.

Sansa only shook her head side to side.

Cersei scoffed, “I know that old bat Ollena Tyrell was in part to blame, but she couldn’t have acted in it alone. No- she had help, from someone who was there. Do you know that poison that was used to murder Joffrey is quite uncommon? It has a distinct purple color from the seed it comes from, It’s called the strangler.”

Cersei finished the contents of her goblet, “I seem to remember you were wearing a necklace that day. A purple necklace.”

“I didn’t know-“ Sansa started.

“How did you escape?” Cersei asked sharply.

“I cannot say for certain, you Grace. A servant was paid to take me to a ship. That ship took me to the Vale, where my aunt helped me, it wasn’t until Lord Baelish married her, that she began to-” Sansa paused, tilting her head slightly stammering through unfinished words, “To feel threatened, by me- I never understood why-“

“She was a jealous woman, bitter and suspicious of everyone.” Cersei knew that was only the woman Lysa Arryn had become, remembering the shy, fragile girl she had once been.

“When she died, I returned to Winterfell.” Sansa quickly finished.

Cersei pursed her lips, there was something the she wolf was keeping to herself. She watched the muscles on her neck strain, deciding to keep her suspicions to herself.

“I’ll take this wine to my chambers.” Cersei stood up, she walked to the door and gave Sansa a sharp look, “If you ever lie to me, I swear that will be the last thing you ever do.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

**Sansa**

Shortly after Cersei left, the kitchen maids pooled in taking away the spread, leaving fruit and bread on the table.

Once they had all gone, one more lingered behind the room. She crept behind the door and closed it shut. She locked the door with her key.

Sansa felt her eyes grow wide, “What are you doing?”

The maid pressed her finger to her lips, when there was an elaborate knock at the door. She opened the door and Euron slipped in. He tossed her a small bag, it clinked in her hand when she caught it. Without a word, she slipped out of the room.

Euron placed the bottle of wine he carried under his arm on the table, “We haven’t got much time,” he flipped a knife out of his belt and wrenched the cork out of the bottle, “Here is a bottle like the ones I’ve brought for Cersei.”

He pulled out a little bottle, “The Essence of Nightshade was more difficult to find than I’d thought.” He told her as he emptied it into the wine bottle. He plugged the cork back in and shook it.

“That’s far too much- it’ll kill her.” Sansa reached for the bottle.

Euron slipped it out of grasp, “I’ll switch the bottles after they’ve been through her taster. All it will take is a few sips, she’ll fall asleep and we can deal with the Queen’s guard. I’ll have my men standing by, ready to attack when the time is right. Listen closely now, Cersei is expecting a guest, she wouldn’t tell me who, only that they’ll be here in a few days time- we’ll do it then.”

She shook her head, “What if she’s meeting with an ally?”

Euron laughed, he muffled the sound with his hands pressed against his mouth, “Cersei Lannister has no allies. Simply appeal to her pride, should you be present for this visit, if not I’ll free you when it’s done.”

Sansa had been thinking about the best way to carry out their plan for days, after going through every possible outcome, she knew this would be her best chance. If she had attempted to do anything like this today, a kitchen maid would have surely seen her. Euron had Cersei’s trust, he could get close enough to get it done, “You’re very brave, Euron. I want to thank you, for all that you’ve done.” She returned his gaze.

Suddenly he leaned in, his scraggly beard poked against her chin as he deepened the kiss. Sansa’s eyes were frozen wide with shock, she felt his hand slither its way down the small of her back. She shuddered in disgust at his rancid breath in her mouth. When she felt him pull away from her, she forced her eyes closed through her welling tears.

“I missed you.” He whispered in her ear, “Good night.”

He turned to leave the room, Sansa wiped off the wetness that lingered from his kiss and clenched her fists tightly at her sides. She felt sick to her stomach, she very nearly lost control.

With a sniff she wiped away her tears, she had been here before. Surrounded by friends and enemies alike, just as Littlefinger said she would be. Only this time she knew better than to wait for someone to come rescue her. She would have to do it herself, just as she’d always had.

Sansa looked back to the closed door, pleased with how little of the truth Cersei knew.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been really excited about this chapter, lots of stuff I’ve been wanting to work through. I hope you enjoy, thank you for reading!!


	26. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jorah gets ignored, Theon makes a huge discovery, Melly gets yelled at and Gendry gets triggered.

 

 

**Daenerys**

Drogon silently landed above a stone arched bridge over looking the path to the huge looming tower. The surrounding streets were empty. Dany climbed off with the help of Ser Jorah. 

Dany could only think to take Jorah to the place he’d gone when he was cured from the grey scale. She hadn’t taken a look at his injury, she planned to have a Maester take care of it. 

“I’ll go in-“ Jorah started

Dany sternly shook her head, “First they bend the knee.”

Jorah looked at her wide eyed, it made her belly hot with anger. He opened his mouth to try and change her mind, she raised her hand to stop him.

“I am your Queen, am I not?” She asked.

He nodded, eager to continue trying to sway her.

“Then I ask you to have faith in me. If these men don’t recognize my claim to the Seven Kingdoms, I can not ever hope to have the support of the people. I will offer them the same choice I’m going to offer the great houses of Westeros.” She told him.

Jorah pressed his lips shut and let his arms fall to his sides in defeat. 

Dany looked up at Drogon, he screeched a terrifying sound. Shortly after, groups of men old and young trickled out onto the steps of the tower where Jorah told her that they lived. She noticed others emerging from their homes, she would have to deal with the rest of the city another time. This had to be done, not only for Jorah, but to ensure that the wisest men in Westeros support her claim. The great houses will follow, if she gains the support of the maesters.

The biggest of the men there caught her eye, he had grey stringy hair and a wooden peg where his leg should be. His was the only face that was not twisted in fear, he stood upright when others shrunk down into the small men they were. 

The maesters began speaking amongst themselves, Drogon roared again, this time more fierce. The onlookers screamed, most of them retreated back into their homes.

Jorah was at her side in an instant, “Your Grace as I’ve told you, these men are no threat-” 

“Do not.” Dany spat like venom,  
she hardened her gaze to address the Maesters of the Citadel, “You live your lives hiding behind those books you surround yourselves with. Records and songs about my house, the Targaryen dynasty which lasted thousands of years. You knew my brother and I were exiled in Essos. You knew I survived your false King’s attempts on my life.” She paused,  
“You knew, yet none of you spoke against the false King Robert, or those who followed in his name.” 

Dany paced closer to the Citadel, doing so made some of the Maesters cower away and others cry out in terror, “Now, I give you the chance to bend the knee to your rightful Queen. We can make this world better than the one we’ve always known, or you can refuse and die.” 

Dany pursed her lips when they stood unmoving, she had hoped that it would not come to this. She started to make her way back to Drogon, when she heard Jorah’s voice beside her. She refused to look at him, fixing her eyes on Drogon she allowed herself to listen.

“Daenerys, please- you know I would follow you to the edge of the Red Waste a thousand times. Leave these defenseless men, we can fly off beyond Essos beyond the Shadowlands of Asshai... we can build a new world, far away from this one.” He fell to his knees, “Please don’t do this.”

Dany’s eyes fluttered shut as she sighed, still adverting her gaze from Jorah. She knew the look on his face would bring pain to her heart, like Tyrion’s face the day on the Goldroad, like Jon’s face the day she executed Varys and the Manderly man.

She shook her head, “I suggest you stand back Ser Jorah.” She said coldly.

Suddenly a voice called out from the steps, “I recognize you Daenerys Targaryen, as my true Queen.” 

Dany turned to watch the brave legless man, he pushed his way through the crowd of disapproving faces. They muttered to him as he hobbled past them and some even pushed as he passed.

“You are the last Targaryen.” His voice faltered as his hands outstretched and he threw himself onto the ground in a bow.

Dany nodded, accepting his pledge.

After a few moments of silence, Dany walked over to the man on the ground, “I need your help.” She told him.

She turned around to look upon the men who stood in silent defiance, giving more than enough time for more to pledge fealty to her.

The Maester jumped to his foot, his wooden peg tapping against the ground all the way to Jorah’s side. 

Dany climbed up Drogons’ back, the maesters had already begun to run back into their tower, others scattered into the streets. It makes no difference, she thought.

Drogon’s wings beat steadily as she closed the distance, “Dracarys.” 

The screams were endless as the fire rose its way up the tower, Drogon flew upward along it’s side. They turned to circle towards the steps, landing before the scorched entrance. With a mighty roar, he took a step closer to the huge arched door way, “Dracarys.”

Drogon’s fire poured out like blood from a deep gash, relentless and unending. Dany could feel the heat of it coursing off the walls within, outside and against her face. She closed her eyes against the warmth as it consumed everything inside the tower. Black smoke became one with night sky and soon the screaming came to an end.

Dany heard crumbling from high atop the tower, her eyes flung open just in time to see the giant iron fixture which held the hearth of the flame that burned there, creak into a tilt at the edge of the stones beneath it. She gasped and without thinking, squeezed Drogon with the heels of her boots. When he’d finished engulfing the tower in his fire, Drogon took back to the sky. Daenerys looked over her shoulder to see the fixture slam it’s way down and crash into the ground where they had been standing. 

Dany was amazed at how quickly the walls faltered, she thought of all the books and archives that had surely been destroyed. Books filled with the stories of her predecessors, Targaryen birth archives, detailed descriptions of the faces she’ll never know as well as their dragons, long dead now. 

“This is our world now.” She told Drogon, he shrieked, as if to agree with his mother.

She smiled with pride, ruffling his scales beneath her hands. He softly landed back on the bridge where Jorah stood, wincing in pain as the Maester was busy working on his wound. 

He scrambled through his apron with fresh fear in his eyes, “If I had antiseptic solution the flesh has been infected.” The old man quickly examined Jorah, fixing his gaze on the blood crusted gash .

“Can you fix him?” Daenerys asked, taking notice of the people who quietly remained .She stood proudly before the light, feeling their eyes on her. 

“I- I’ll do my best- I don’t have the proper tools, you see.” He muttered between Jorah’s pained grunts as he sliced off the blackened flesh around his gash.

“Do whatever you can.” She said, too harshly. She cleared her throat and let a small smile grow on her face, “He is my dearest friend.” 

The old man reached into his apron and quickly stitched up the gaping wound. 

“Of course, your Grace.” He said, “I have served House Targaryen in the past.”

“Have you?” Daenerys raised a brow at him, “Who?”

“I was under Prince Rhaegar’s command. He charged me and a few other Maesters to gather whatever knowledge we could on the Prince that was Promised, R’hllor and even Old Valyria.” He stitched the final stitch with a steady tug against Jorah’s skin, cutting the string with the scalpel in his bloodied hand.

“You knew him well?” She turned to look at the dying flames and rubble of the tower, Drogon screeched metallically as he reveled above the licks of flame, singing of their victory.

“Aye.” The old man said solemnly, “For a time. Until he left, Princess Elia and their children were left behind in the Red Keep as well.” He inched his way closer to her.

Dany continued to look up at Drogon circling above, “He was wrong to leave his family. He failed his house, let his desires get in the way of what was really important.” 

The maester stood at her side, following her gaze to the sky, “I was ordered by King Aerys, to assist his alchemists in their experiments.” The old man paused, taking a deep labored breath, “You see, I was given the duty of bottling up the wildfire they created for your father. I nearly dropped a fresh batch, I caught it but not before it bumped against the table and cracked the glass.” His voice had become distant and he turned to face her, “That was the day I lost my foot.” He stomped his peg leg against the ground.

Dany turned to meet his gaze, startled by the fury she saw there.

“What was I to expect?” He lamented, “Fire and blood are your house words after all, you’ve proven it here, today.” His voice turned cold, “And I’ll die before letting another Targaryen lead these lands into ruin.” He lifted the scalpel high above his head.

Dany could only gasp as she held out her hands, felling the sting of the tiny sharp blade cutting its way across what would have been her neck. 

Jorah was behind him in an instant, his sword held against the maester’s neck as the old man lashed out against Jorah’s hold spewing his treasonous words.

Daenerys looked down at her hands, slick with blood. Rage coursed through her belly as she curled her fists shut despite the pain.

“We should take this man prisoner, your Grace. He’s lost everything-“ Jorah started.

“So have I.” He would have me put this coward in chains, she thought to herself, “Kill him.” She ordered, matching the old man’s furious glare.

“Your Grace-“ Jorah’s eyes gleamed with sorrow like the sound of his voice.

“Now!” She demanded.

With a heavy sigh, he kicked the man’s good leg knocking him forward. With one single swing of his sword the maester was silent and headless.

Jorah silently placed the maesters’ head in his bloody apron and wrapped it tight. He dragged his body to the fire, not once looking back at her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

**Theon**

Wet sand crunched beneath his boot as he stepped onto the shore of Dragonstone. The wind howled through the caverns, where Ellaria had ordered her men to begin mining what little dragon glass was left. 

Theon looked up at the castle, “The chamber of the painted table is up in the highest tower.” 

“Yes, I remember. Let’s go.” Ellaria nodded to her sand snakes. They had been lighting up torches on the boat, one at a time they jumped out on to the shore following Ellaria as she led the way.

Theon followed through the long winding bridges, spreading out when they reached the gates. There was no one in sight, Ellaria quickly rushed to the chains dangling in the wind, “Stay sharp, they’ve been broken.”

She quietly pulled the gate open, Theon drew his sword, creeping after them. 

Not a single room was left unchecked as they made their way up to the throne room, they found a scorched pile of bodies in a corner. 

Theon made his way over to the singed pile, when he heard something just beyond the door to the chamber of the painted table.

His head snapped in the direction and he pressed his fingers to his lips, mouthing for the others to fall back.

With a swift turn into the room, Theon stood with a snarl on his face and his sword in hand. 

His eyes immediately darted to the ground where a figure lay slumped, “Who’s there?” He shouted.

As the sand snakes leapt in, more light was cast on the figures’ face. It was darkened with old dried up blood and grime, Theon walked closer to it. Grabbing it from the collar caused hair to fall from her face.

Theon’s sword clanged as it hit the stone ground, Yara looked back at him through dull squinted eyes in disbelief. Her severely chapped lips twitched as she tried to mutter something, but her voice was too weak. 

“Don’t say anything, you’re safe now.” He said with his arms wrapped tight around his sister.

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________  
**Jon**

The ship was moving much too slow, it was the ice freezing over on the surface of the water. It scraped against the ship, Jon worried that it might freeze entirely, stranding them in place.

Melisandre appeared by Jon’s side at the mast of the Greyjoy ships they’d stolen, “The Horn is safe with you, I am glad that it has fallen into your possession.” 

Jon had done his best to forget about the horn that he’d locked away in a cupboard in his cabin. In truth, he didn’t know what to do with it. He did not trust this woman or her fire God, and yet he stood here because of them.

“There is so much you have yet to face, my lord. I’m lucky to have earned your forgiveness.” She said, eyeing the place on his chest plate that covered his heart. 

Her intent gaze made Jon feel uneasy, he pulled his fur cloak tighter around his neck and over the chest plate entirely. 

“The flames have shown me two gold swords covered in blood.” Melisandre finally drifted her gaze away from him to the sea.

“I’ve had enough air, I think I’ll be going to my cabin now” Jon nodded curtly turning on his heels, when Melisandre spoke again.

“This war can not be won if you don’t focus.” She told him.

Jon was grateful that she couldn’t listen to his thoughts, “The only reason you’re here is because Sam and Bran think you might be able to help. I’ve not forgotten what you did and no amount of visions or prophecies are going to bring back that little girl.” He all but ran away from her before she could seize the chance to tell him more of her visions in the flames. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

**Arya**

Arya lay in a nook along the side of the deck where Sam, Gilly, Missandei, Podrick and Gendry sat silently reading to themselves. They each held the books in their hands close to the flame of the torches they used for light.

Arya could hear them clearly where she hid, tucked out of sight leaned up against a shadowy alcove beside the deck. She mostly looked up at the beaming moon, wondering if they would ever find a way to end this long night.

“Here.” Missandei said, “This Archmaester wrote that the volcanic mountain found beyond the city of Asshai, were once a dwelling for dragons. They were said to have lived in the caverns and was believed to have a mystical element...”

Melisandre’s rich voice rose from the darkness, ”Making Valyrian steel required a skilled shadowbinder and the right blacksmith. Dragon steel, just like Valyrian steel was created by dragon fire. Dragon steel would need more than a dragons fire, it must be bound with the fire from which dragons spawn. The power is in the fire not the dragons. The volcanic mountain in Asshai by the Shadow is where I have traveled to collect rocks molten from that lava, the purest form of its fire. I believe they will be essential in the forging of Lightbringer. And how lucky we are, to have just the smith with the capability to do it.”

Arya didn’t need to see, to know she was talking about Gendry.

“What’s she talking about?” Sam asked

Gendry sighed a tired sound, “She’s talking about me. Tobho Mott crafted the first pair of Valyrian steel swords in thousands of years, he did it for Tywin Lannister. I was his apprentice.” He must have paced closer as his voice was much clearer, “I take it you’re glad you didn’t sacrifice me to your fire God now.” 

“I have made mistakes in the past, it’s true.” Melisandre paused, “But, everything I’ve done was to save the realm from the terrors of the night, you have nothing to fear from me anymore. I know now that you are the one who will forge Lightbringer.” 

Gendry snorted, “Well you’re wrong again. That sword was only recreated, not forged, and I never met a dragon kind enough to loan me his fire so I don’t know how you expect me to make this sword I’ve never heard of.” 

“With my help, you will.” The Red Woman proclaimed, “I have a spell given to me by a mage I’ve known all my life.” 

“Well let’s see it.” Gilly said hopping to her feet. 

Arya heard the crinkling of paper.

“It’s in another language.” Gilly groaned, “Missandei! If anyone can read this it’s y-.” 

Melisandre’s high pitched voice cut her sentence short, “We best not cause any damage, that is an ancient-“ 

“Nonsense, we need to learn everything we can, wouldn’t you agree?” Gilly asked Melisandre.

“Of course, only there’s-“ Melisandre started.

Missandei flipped the heavy sounding parchment over, “Where is the rest of it?” She asked.

“As I was saying, the final piece of the spell is in my mind, I made certain to memorize it.” Melisandre explained, “But we get ahead of ourselves, first we must forge the weapon.” 

“Well good luck with that.” Gendry started to stomp off, stopping in his tracks when Melisandre called after him. 

“Gendry, all your life you’ve waited for this moment. This is your destiny, you’re the only man who knows how to make Valyrian ste-“ Melisandre stopped short.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gendry said his voice sounded far away, he must’ve been facing away from her. 

“You underestimate yourself.” Melisandre went on.

Gendry’s voice was clear as he turned to shout, “Do I? And you saw this in your fire?!”

“I-“ Melisandre attempted to explain, the words never leaving her mouth when Gendry walked right up to her.

Arya slowly stuck her head over the rail where she’d been hiding to get a look at Gendry exploding on the Red Woman, grinning all the while.

“So that’s it then? I’m destined to become a bloody blacksmith? I’ve been one for years now. You see me in your little fire and you think you know me- but you don’t know anything! You never have and you never will!!” Gendry stormed off too quickly, he went down the steps leading right to the alcove where Arya had been peeking. 

The smile on her face had melted away when she heard the sorrow in Gendrys voice. There were only tears now, she couldn’t say why. 

Gendry came to a stop on the final step, looking right into Arya’s eyes, wetness streaked down his cheek. He simply looked at her for a moment, hardened his gaze and turned continued on past her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I heard somewhere that the Citadel was based on the Library of Alexandria I knew it would (probably) go up in flames some day in one of the wars. I hope you liked the chapter and will be providing some fluff on valentine’s day for my next update (I’m trying to get it done that day) it’s going to be bloody and sweet and it’s going to crush your heart!!!


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